I, Boba
by MsLanna
Summary: Star Wars from Boba Fett's perspective. Well, almost. Companion story to 'Who I am' and 'When I Was Still Me'. Lorna Kees caught in the armour of the wellknown bounty hunter. On Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

I, Boba

The day I put on the bounty hunter's Mandalorian armour, I had no idea in what a mess it would all end. If I had known -- well, it's not as if I had had much of a choice then, so I guess I'd have done it all the same. After all, it was a choice between being Boba Fett or being dead.  
And so I was here today, in the mess that had once been my life. Here, in the company of the galaxy's most feared man, if you could still call him that. Whatever was said about him, I felt akin to Lord Vader. Like me, he was always hidden beneath his mask, and nobody really knew what it is hiding. Like me, nobody knew _him_.

Only that I wasn't even a him. I was a her. And I hadn't used my name in such a long time that I sometimes almost forgot that I used to be Lorna Kees lifetimes ago. There was no time to be Lorna anymore; I had been too good at being Boba Fett.

"No disintegrations," Vader told me just then, wagging his finger at me.

_I guess that one will stay with me forever_. I suppressed a sigh. Having salt rubbed into old wounds was not what I was here for, and I thought that Vader was the only person who still dared to mention that incident. All others had shut up by themselves after I helped some of them shut up permanently. I couldn't have speculations about the incident, none. It was too dangerous.

"As you wish," I reply, knowing that it will sound much more grinding though the voice filters.

I was not the only one that had followed the Empire's call. Bossk, Zuckuss and Dengar, even IG-88 had come to find out how much Solo was worth to the Empire. The amount was higher than what Jabba offered, but I was sure the Hutt would not meddle with imperial affairs. Not if Vader himself was behind the bounty. Besides, there was another bounty on princess Organa's head now, too -- one that was as high as Solo's.

There was commotion among the officers suddenly, and I figured that they had spotted their target and finally locked a tractor beam on it. Pity, but maybe the Imperials left enough of Solo for me to collect Jabba's bounty. I didn't think Zuckuss and 4-LOM or Dengar knew about it, or that IG-88 even cared, but even if, I was sure I could handle them. After all, I was Boba Fett.

Dengar took of in a run, probably hoping to get to the _Falcon_ first and still collect the bounty, which was not a wise move since it would annoy Lord Vader. And annoying Lord Vader meant signing your own death sentence. The other hunters waited to see what happened next, and only moment later Solo's ship scraped across the Executor's hull and vanished.

The bridge was deadly silent, the crew was taut, scared of Vader's reaction. The other bounty hunters, though, took the chance to get the information on Solo and make a run for their ships. The chase was on again.

I watched the other them leave, eager to begin the race. Like the Imperials they had accepted for a fact that Solo's hyperdrive had suddenly been repaired. They were good in their own ways, but there was one thing they couldn't or wouldn't do: think like their prey. I did, and I was the best. Solo's hyperdrive was not supposed to work, so I assumed it didn't. Forget about all those speculations here, it didn't work, which meant that Solo was still around somewhere. And now the possibilities were limited.

Of course, he could be hiding in the asteroid field, most men would have done that, but not Solo -- he was a gambler, and the stakes this time was his life. He'd gamble, oh yes, and high because most likely he was trying to impress the princess, whether he believed it or not. But if he was not in the asteroid file, not in hyperspace and not visible on the monitors, it could only mean that he had actually dared to attach his ship to one of the star destroyers.

A highly dangerous move, a real gamble, but it would only win him something if he could let go again before the fleet jumped to hyperspace itself. I wondered if he would not get spotted, but if he believed not, his guess was good enough for me. I would have no problem copying his manoeuvre, and with his hyperdrives still out of order I just had to watch his vector, guess the end of it and get there before him. None of that sounded too difficult.

Except getting the permission to cling to a star destroyers hull. That meant involving the Imperial which might juts as well mean forfeiting the bounty. There was no way around talking to Vader in person. I stopped in my tracks and began to walk back to the bridge.

Admiral Piett was none to happy to see me. His face showed his disgust openly, though there was nothing he could actually do against my presence.

"I need to talk to Lord Vader," I told him. The changes on the admiral's face went form surprised to suspicious to almost grudging respect. It was obviously not often, that somebody asked to see the Dark Lord. From what was know about his choking habits that was not very surprising.

He managed to alert Vader, though, and seemed again rather surprised that the dark Lord agreed to see me immediately. I thanked Piett with a short nod, and followed the two stormtroopers that had appeared on cue, to lead me to Vader. With Vader it was always stormtroopers, no matter how much military personnel there was, the Dark Lord went only for the best. Which should do wonders for my ego, now that I came to think of it.

I was lead through the usual maze of corridors. It always happens if you go anywhere on a Star Destryoer and I wonder if that's for show, for throwing you off track, when the actual destination is only few doors down the hall. We stopped in front of one of the many equal-looking doors of the Executor. I braced myself and entered the small conference room behind it without hesitation when the door slid open.

Vader stood at the far end of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned to face me as I entered and, as always, I was impressed. He seemed to tower over you even when he was standing at the far end of a room - and close up the impression only grew. Vader was not only tall, but also took up the space surrounding him. He blocked out everything else.

"Lord Vader," I greeted him, indicating a bow by inclining my upper body. Respect to those who deserved it - it must be an awesomely lonely life behind that mask. At least I could go incognito from time to time, but if rumour contained just the smallest bit of truth, he could not.

"What is it that demands my personal attention?" he asked, his voice rasping though the filters. No empty phrases, no niceties - I liked the opportunity to waive social conventions.

"I may have found Solo," I told him, "but I fear for the bounty, if I told the officers. If I have to be duped, I prefer to be duped by the best."

There was a long pause. Neither of us spoke or moved, a silent display of strength. Something that is much easier to keep up behind a mask where no twitch shows and the stare of the other bounces off the helmet. Adhering to the proper hierarchy, I spoke again first.

"I want to attach the _Slave I_ to the hull of your Star Destroyer. If my suspicion is correct, Solo is doing the same, waiting for you to go to hyperspace. Then he plans to float away with the garbage that is usually dumped before the jump." I made a brief pause to grant him the chance to comment, but the black figure remained completely still.

"If I am allowed to duplicate his moves, I can inform you of his new vector and intended target as soon as he is on his way. There is nothing around here, so you will have some time to either prepare a nice welcome at his destination, or intercept at will."

Now it is up to the Dark Lord to judge my plan - and to grant the bounty. I just hoped -

"As you wish." His voice grates into my thoughts. "If your suspicion proves to be true, you will call me immediately. We will discuss further action and your payment then."

I inclined my head. That was not the commitment I had hoped for, but at least he hadn't denied me my money completely in advance. "I will not disappoint you," I said, turning for the door.

The escort was still waiting for me, ready to bring me to my ship or detention. But the communication was impeccable and I reached the hangar without incident. I just caught a glimpse of Dengar shuffling away from the _Slave I_ as I arrived, but I didn't believe he had managed to do any harm.

Still, as I neared my ship, the alarms blared into life, declaring that somebody had indeed planted a tracker on the hull. Once I was inside, I shut the alarm off, sealed that hatch and got ready for take off. Depending on the speed of the Imperials, I would have enough time watching the material while waiting.

I was the last one leaving, as I had been the last to come. Being first is overrated, but I kept the myth up. if necessary. If you were the last to arrive, the ships of your competitors were lined up neatly in the hangar already, and all you had to do was tamper with them as much as their owner's security allowed. No, I was not worried about Dengar the least.

I saw the bright patch of his hyperdrive exhaust vanish between the asteroids as I left the hangar bay., watching the record with one eye. It showed that, indeed, no human had put the tracking device onto the hull of my ship. A service droid had done that, placing it most cunningly out of human reach in a notch on the top of the Slave. Impressive. I guessed that this was IG-88 work, he was not beyond reprogramming normal maintenance droids for his purposes.

IG-88 was nowhere to be seen, but that droid had probably set the trackers on the others as well and was planning on simply taking the bounty head from the finder. Well, I would deal with him soon enough. If Solo wanted to get anywhere it would take him a lot of time from here - time I could use on IG-88.

With a soft thud the Slave attached itself to the hull of the Star Destroyer. I shut down all systems, even life support. Wearing this crux of an armour did have advantages sometimes.

Of course it had been very strange at the beginning. Everybody had treated me with careful obligingness, if not outright fear. But I had avoided the public as well as I could, even cantinas.  
The idea of suddenly feeling a very human urge and then ending up in the men's room having to - . Well, as it turned out, with THAT codpiece Fett never belonged to the species of men doing it standing. To get anything done on the loo, the codpiece had to be taken off -- and let me tell you, Boba Fett _never_ takes of his codpiece in public. That's why he always uses the private booths. That, and because he's a girl now -- because _I'm_ a girl.

The Imperials took all time in the world to get ready for the jump. Finally, the Star Destroyers opened their garbage dumps. I detached my ship, carefully manoeuvring it into the trickle of rubbish. I could allow Solo a head start, let him feel safe. Not that I believed his sensors reached far enough to find me.

I had only just begun to follow the_ Falcon_, when another ship suddenly appeared on my monitors. Dengar. He must have spotted Solo drifting away while he searched the asteroid field. Blast that, and I had so hoped to get through this with minimal casualties. Patiently I waited until I was in his range, and contacted him, as soon as he had spotted me.

"Sorry to do this, friend, but Solo is _my_ trophy," I told him, turning the switch of my remote at the same time. A squeal on binary code hit Dengar's comm, and a second later the detonator on his ship exploded. With a sigh I returned to my original course. With the days it would take Dnegar to repair his ship, he, and I, too, knew, that he was out of the race.

When I reached the last location of the _Falcon_, it's trajectory had changed. It seemed Solo had decided where to go. I fed the new data into my navcomp calculating the possible destinations. There was only one they could possibly reach: Bespin. Though it was a huge gas giant, there were mining colonies scattered in it's orbit, so I pulled down all available data to determine which one he was making for.

The name 'Calrissian' jumped at me immediately. Formerly involved in many a shady business, he now owned a small mine. How shady his real business was, was anybody's guess. Once Calrissian had travelled with Solo, and no matter how they had parted, the smuggler would now try to garner his help. A neat plan, and one that would have worked well enough, Bespin lay just the opposite way his last trajectory seen by the Imperials did. I punched the comm to life, time to report success. I punched in the code to mark the call private, for Lord Vader only, and leaned back. Depending on the Dark Lord's mood I could be sitting here quite a while.

But I didn't have to wait long. With the black mask staring down at me larger than life, I wondered if displaying incoming calls on my viewport had been such a good idea. Usually, the size made it easy for me to see tiny twitches and other tell-tale signs in the faces of the others. Vader's face-mask, on the other hand, appeared only huge.

"Report," the Dark Lord demanded, skipping the pleasantries.

"I have found Solo," I replied, letting a hint of satisfaction ring in my mechanic voice. "As I expected, he is still at the asteroid field, his hyper engines malfunctioning. He has set a course that will take him to Bespin, a gas giant in the Anoat sector. His most likely destination is a small gas mining operation called 'Cloud City' which is run by an old associate of his - Land Calrissian."

A moment of silence followed. "Very well. You will follow him for two weeks to make sure that he doesn't change course. Then jump ahead to Bespin and await my arrival."

The picture vanished and only flickering static was displayed on my viewport.

_Kick the old Sith's butt!_ My foot hit the console hard. Who did he think he was? Lord Vader, OK, but did that put him in a position to order me around like a puppy? Balling my fists, I took several deep breaths, because, unfortunately, that was exactly where it put him. Gritting my teeth, I slowly unclenched my hands. _Blast him, anyway._

Slowly I took the helmet off, suddenly staring at my reflection in the viewport. It was not a face I saw often. Two weeks of trailing a ship on sublight. Two whole lost weeks, not to mention the remaining seven weeks I might be grounded on Cloud City if Lord Vader decided I better stay. Resignedly, I ruffled through my short hair. At least, I would finally catch up with my reading.


	2. Chapter 2

I thunked the helmet back over my head only just before I called Cloud City. It felt strange after two weeks without it. I couldn't remember if I had gone without if for such a long time before. After I had put it on, I mean. But then I couldn't even determine how long I was hiding in this armour without consulting a calendar, either.

It was only three years.

There were scratches in the bulkhead next to my bunk -- three times worth a year. It looked like a prison cell, and it was. I had started marking the days one morning, not long after I had appropriated this identity. I felt, I would go crazy, if I didn't know how long I was already stuck in this armour, this ship, this life.

Over one thousand lines, scratched into the metal.

But none of that mattered now. I punched the comm switch and demanded a place to land. On my screen I could see the small twitch in the corner of the eye of the operator - a mixture of surprise and fear. But, of course, there was no reason to deny my request. Even if Calrissian wanted to protect his old friend, he didn't even know about his arrival yet.

"You are cleared to land on platform 39."

I didn't bother to reply, only nodded microscopically and broke the connection. There would most likely be a reception committee waiting, so I consciously took my time with the post flight routines to keep them waiting. Finally, I stepped down the ramp, my cape billowing dramatically in the ever blowing wind.

To my surprise Calrissian himself was waiting to meet me. The Baron Administrator looked slightly annoyed, but regained his composure quickly, as I approached him. His companions all stood with stony faces and could have been everything from accountants to bodyguards. The wary way in which they watched my approach declared them to be the latter.

"Boba Fett," Calrissian declared in a tone as if he was genuinely pleased to see me. He also opened his arms in a gesture of welcome. "

"I need a quarter and access to the lower levels to the city," was all the greeting I had to offer. It was clear that Calrissian did not like my demands. I took the time to grin under the helmet. "For payment, of course," I added just when the Baron Administrator was about to explode.

Calrissian calmed down immediately and I would have chuckled, if it had not been so out of character. Some people were just fun to mess with.

"Oh, and Calrissian," I added, "I am fully expecting the assassination droid IG-88 to show up here soon. If you keep out of my way, and don't question my proceedings, you won't have to deal with him personally, though." Nonchalantly, I strode away, leaving the Baron Administrator to his thoughts.

I did not intend to use my assigned quarters, but it calmed people if they thought they knew where I was. Not to mention of the advantage it gave me over them. Now all I had to worry about was IG-88. I headed for the lower levels, where the maintenance and recycling took place, to find a good place for an ambush.

Two things were vital, if you wanted to destroy an assassination droid. First, that he did not expect you to be after _him_, and second, enough power to jolt through him in the nanosecond until he realized his mistake. I was determined to get both.

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Cloud City is a busy place for a small mining colony. Probably because mining is not all that is going on there, but Calrissian would of course disavow that in most colourful language. But I didn't intend to do anything against it. Played right, it would even be a great advantage.

I decided to set the trap for IG-88 in the recycling area. Not because it made sense to me, or even to Solo, but because the assassination droid would believe it made sense. After Calrissian had gotten affirmation to my claim that IG-88 was on his way here, he dad become a lot more cooperative. The idea to have to deal with that one on his own was obviously not one that appealed to him. I go everything I asked for immediately.

Not that I demanded much. Annoying the Baron Administrator was fun, but I did have a job to do. So I got free access, and a load of ion cannons some construction material to keep them in their new place and other electronics that would made for a nasty surprise for IG-88.

I attached the ion cannons to the frame of the second set of doors, in the entry hatch. Not nearly hidden from view as I would have liked, but to be effective, they had to be close. They would be triggered by motion sensors that I put up way back in the corridor. Timing was critical in this operation. If the assassination droid got just a millisecond to react, I'd be dead.

However Boba Fett had stood this. Had he liked risking his life like that, had it been a thrill, a game to him? I felt a mixture of awe and pity for my predecessor. This life was certainly exciting, but also so lethal. One wrong step and your future went up in a blaze. In this continued state of heightened awareness, the world around you took on an unique sheen, a shimmer of perfection, a haze of transience, and in the short times of respite, everything seemed a little blunted, dull, lacking lustre.

In those periods, I'd look back on my life as accountant and wonder how I could ever have been happy with it. And then, in times like this, with my future - again - hanging on a thread of shimmersilk, I knew the allure of my old life too well. With the trigger connected to the motion sensors, I set the cannons on continued fire and made sure I could control them from my suit.

This set of armour is amazing, but it probably has to, if it's owner doesn't want to get killed. All those gadgets and possibilities. I had enough problems getting used to the overlapping of normal sight and the information the visor added. If your head didn't shut down of overload It was a fine thing. Still, I was glad when I could take the helmet off, rub my eyes and see the world as I always thought it was.

Still, a helmet like this might have saved me all the trouble. Automatically, it told me, whether there was a bounty on a person or not. I am sure Kestrel would not have gotten past me then. One day, one day, I promised myself, to take care of him personally. One day, when I had thought up something properly nasty. Real payback, not just revenge.

After installing my little trap, I returned to the upper levels and waited for Calrissian's people to signal me IG-88 arrival. I did not get many bounty alerts, but considering I was wearing my full work outfit, I guessed that a some just took a detour so not to meet me. Except for some of the women, who did just the opposite for the chance to shoot me a ??? glance. But Boba Fett was not a womaniser, oh no, I certainly was not. Unfortunately that seemed to be rather attractive.

I had no idea what it would take to take out an assassination droid, but I was sure he'd have it on him. From a logical point of view, that made sense: the weapon able to destroy an assassination droid had to be the most effective weapon around and thus it was logical to have it. Bless his digital yes/no mentality.

When the call from the flight control arrived, I went back to the lower levels, making sure that I was seen by a multitude of druids. Usually nobody notices them, but they are many. With leaders like IG-88 around we might want to become a little more careful. I took up position next to a portable ion cannon and waited.

This was the critical phase of the hunt, of any hunt. The short period of time in which you could only wait. Either your prey would walk into the trap you put up or not. Now it was out of your hands. You balanced on the Rubicon in perfect harmony - until hell broke loose.

The ion cannons started to fire and the moment was gone. I hoisted my own cannon and stepped through the door just after the next barrage. IG-88 was still standing, blue electricity sparkling all over him, dancing up and down his bulky body. The readouts of my visor showed me just how much damage there was and how fast the droid was repairing himself. A quick one, that. I fired.

The energy blast was enough to throw him into the walls and the to the ground this time. "No microtracker is too small to evade my inspection," I told him. "Found your device on my ship. I knew you were coming."

I approached the fallen form and found concussion grenades. A good choice. Keeping an eye on IG-88 recovery I, I carefully implanted them inside his armoured body after setting the timer on a minute. The droid would be repaired enough to see it coming, but unable to stop it. A fact that I hoped would discourage further pursuit from his friends who were no doubt getting a live feed on the events here.

I left the droid behind, inviting some Ugnaughts to salvage his remains. Calrissian would be happy that the destruction caused so little damage to his floating City. I barely felt the vibration on my way back up. Time to ask some more favours of the Baron Administrator and find the most convenient way to spend my time here.

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Calrissian was very obliging with his offers. I think it had something to do with not blowing the lower half off his city while destroying IG-88. I got a room with a real view, discount on the catering and could roam everywhere I pleased. Additionally, his people were on the lookout for members of Black Sun. They were rare guests, though, and far between.

I set off a last message to Lord Vader, reporting the destruction of the assassination droid and including some interesting files about Cloud City. Calrissian was not a fool, and the official maps tended to be rather inaccurate in some places. Maybe it was unprofessional, maybe I was indulging a weakness, but in a strange way I liked Vader. I wished I knew what kept him going, because it was burning, strong, and a better motor than whatever I could claim. Which was really nothing more than the wish to stay alive.

Then I took of the armour with ceremony and slumped in the hot water of a bath. Simple pleasures like this, stolen moments in which to be myself. They were all that kept me going. And I wondered how long that would be enough, how long a hot bath or an unarmoured afternoon in a park would be worth all the rest.

Maybe I was just fooling myself, though. The bounty hunting life was not all bad. I got the excitement that others dreamed about all their lives, and the same again the very next day. The money was good, and I was even working on a retirement plan. Not that I could ever use it, but even if I had to be a bounty hunter, somewhere deep down I would always be the traditionalist woman I wanted to be. I hoped.

And as such, I appreciated hot baths, warmed towels and free chocolates. All provided by yours sincerely, Mr. Charming, and he didn't even know. Bet he'd bite his own backside if he ever found out. I chuckled and ducked under the water.

Without the Mandalorain armour I could of course, not go all places I wanted, but at least nobody noticed when and where I went. Roaming the public levels of Cloud City gave me pretty good ideas where to watch out for interesting stuff once I put the armour back on. Another effect was that for everybody else, Boba Fett remained a phantom to pop up suddenly and vanish again into nothingness. Good for the myth, I like reputation doing half the work.

Of course, once the Empire arrived I had to stop my little game of hide and seek. It had been a really uneventful time and I hoped Calrissian wouldn't get into too much trouble for the two members of Black Sun that had disappeared mysteriously on Cloud City. Well, accidents happen if you are in a place that floats, and how could I ever pass up a chance to stab a little at the organisation that got me into this trouble. Bad luck, that Fett's reputation didn't really allow me a vendetta.

Calrissian was mightily peeved when Vader announced his arrival in person and his mood did not improve when the Dark Lord abused him as errand-boy to get met. I should have come here much earlier. Calrissian is so much fun.

"If I had known that you work for the Empire, I would not have let you land," he fumed futilely while leading me to Vader.

"There are a lot of things, you don't know about me," I replied. Sometimes I wished the filters wouldn't grate on everybody's nerves so much. The Baron Administrator shut up and the fun was over.

As usual, the door to Vader was guarded by two stormtroopers who stood to attention as if their lives depended on it, which it probably did.

"I hope he chokes you," Calrissian hissed just before he left.

I didn't bother to answer. Of course Vader was famous for his explosive temper, but right now I had delivered good services. And, what was more, and as much a guarantee you could get with Vader, I would continue to do so. It might have been Fett's way to never attach himself to anybody, but that had been him. If he was strong enough to stand the loneliness, let him. I couldn't. I needed to be connected, somehow, anyhow. And the only one around that had the least resemblance to how I felt? Who I was? There was only Vader.

I had tried to pick up Mando culture, langue and stuff. They were still around those warriors, but I had to admit that their uncompromising way of life frightened me.

_We live if we live_

_we die if we die,_

_so let's have a drink _

_and the right mate today._

I wanted the safety nets and double bottoms of civilisation. the assurance that, no matter what happened, it wouldn't cost you your life, you job maybe, a friend or two, some money, but never your life. Mando'ade went to lose their lives all the time and called it their _way_ of life. They did not seem very interested in Fett, either. I never had one approach me.

And so I had decided, or let circumstance decide, to side with a dark Lord of the Sith. Vader's Right Hand Man. That was me. And so I was connected again, not severed from all around me, so I had an anchor. If it was weakness, let it. How strong did you have to be anyway, to call _Vader_ your weak spot?

Lord Vader was not alone as I entered. A small group of what looked to be technicians tried to avoid getting closer than necessary to him as inconspicuously as possible.

"Lord Vader." I indicated a bow. " take it you have more work for me?" I cast a glance at the work crew. If they had not been fidgeting already, they would surely have started now. Trapped between the hammer and the anvil.

"Your reports have proved most instructive," Vader's voice grated out of his vocoder. "I want a path cleared and programmed from landing platform 23 to the carbonite freezing chamber. You will show the technicians around."

I nodded, wondering what good that would do and if it was intended for Solo at all. "It will be ready before Solo arrives." But the Dark Lord did not take the bait.

"Good." The door opened as he pointed towards it, and I let the tech crew scramble out before I followed them. Just before I was through the frame, I turned back, though, but before I could even open my mouth, Vader was speaking again.

"Of course, an appropriate amount will be added to your bounty when Solo is delivered." The man could indeed read minds.

I bowed for real this time and left with a flourish. Time to do some work, and who knew? I might just run into Calrissian again and have some more time to push his buttons.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, bad luck was with me and I did not run into Calrissian again. The Baron Administrator was probably busy keeping his people calm and assuring civilians that nothing bad would happen. With the Empire occupying the mining colony in all but name I didn't think that very likely. Bad things were bound to happen, but I would be on the side that did the happening and I would get paid for them.

Vader's timing was impeccable. I was still leading his tech team around when Solo arrived and so it was Calrissian who welcomed them instead of me harassing them. Good luck for both of them. So instead of making a grab for Solo who was received like a guest, I made my way back to Vader to get some explanations. Maybe he was not after Solo in the end, but even then I had to make sure the smuggler fell into my hands when the Dark Lord was through with him.

It might have been the force telling him, or simple deduction, but I was already expected, when I arrived. Which did not mean I was immediately ushered in, but marched off to where Vader was expecting to meet with Solo and co. Whatever. Still, I was surprised when I was brought into a room sporting a completely laid dinner table. I doubted that Vader would take off his face mask for a meal with Solo, I certainly wouldn't and counting the places, the attending stormtroopers were not even invited.

But who was I to comment on that. I just made sure, my amusement didn't show. How much of it Vader got is anybody's guess, but I imagined he was chuckling away under his own helmet, too. Eating, indeed. But his staff certainly has a sense of humour. As expected, Vader took the seat at the head of the table facing the door. The troopers took up back up positions outside and I was to hide in a niche to Vader's left. But I did not have to wait long.

From my hiding place I could see the door open and Calrissian leading Solo and his friends in. Tried to, because as soon as the smuggler saw who was already inside, he whipped put his blaster and fired at Vader. And, what can I say? To witness the Dark Lord's prowess first hand was rather impressive. The blaster bolt deflected from his hand as if he had a personal shield, as did the second shot. Then the blaster was ripped out of Solo's hand by an invisible power. It flew directly into the gloved hand of Vader, who put it on the table with glacial calm. If that was the Force I had heard rumours about, I was pretty happy to be on the right side of Vader. Though, as I stepped out from behind the wall, I actually ended up standing at his left.

"We would be honoured if you would join us," Vader said, indicating the chairs around the table. I raised my blaster at the group emphasizing that offer, but Solo was not really looking. He glared at Calrissian instead.

"I had no choice. They arrived right before you did," the Baron Administrator explained himself and I was amazed to hear genuine regret when he continued. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," Solo replied, and since there was obviously nothing else to be done, he finally entered the room. Chewbacca and Princess Organa followed him. Reluctantly, they sat down, their eyes scanning the room uneasily, though they were to proud to show their nervousness any other way.

The dinner went badly. Neither of the guests touched anything, and hearing about their fates was not putting them in any better mood. But what was to be expected. This was more for the effect than anything else. Vader knew how to pull off a show. Reputation, just what I believed in.

With a little help from the stormtroopers the three were separated. Don't ask me why the Princess was allowed back to the quarters, while Solo and his Wookiee were in for some torture. Not that is was any of my business. Until Vader choose to hand Solo over, there was little I could do. So I stood outside the torture chamber, trying to ignore what was about to happen. They had not even tried to ask nicely, not even given him a chance to tell them what they wanted to know. _If_ they wanted to know anything. The Empire was not a nice place.

Calrissian was standing close by, obviously not happy with the way, Vader did as he pleased without even bothering to ask him first. I had no idea what the deal was that the Dark lord had offered in the beginning, but from the Baron Administrator's annoyed fidgeting, it was clear that any of this had not been part of it.

"Lord Vader," he addressed the source of his dissatisfaction as it stepped out of the torture chamber. But the Dark lord ignored him.

"You may take Captain Solo to Jabba the Hutt after I have Skywalker," he told me.

"He's no good to me dead," I replied, listening to the agonized screams from within. It sounded as if there would not be much left of Solo for me to turn over, let alone claim bounty for without a DNA-check.

"He will not be permanently damaged," Vader assured me.

And who was I to argue? I inclined my head and kept waiting as Calrissian followed Vader.

"Lord Vader, what about Leia and the Wookiee," I heard him ask.

So he was probably trying to safe what he could from the old deal. I wished him good luck, though I feared it would not help any. At least, I was almost through with this. That Skywalker better speed up, because I did like to avoid the less pretty sides of my trade. I shut down the audio sensors' input and waited for Solo to stop screaming.

When he finally did, I was glad that the Imperials also dragged him away. What I was not so happy about was, that they put him back with his friends again. So much time lost. And I could hardly linger in front of their door until Solo was delivered to me. So I decided to get the monetary aspects of this deal straightened out. The Empire had wanted Solo, they had him now thanks to my help, and now I wanted to see some money.

With his plans in full swing, Vader was not available. It was annoying, even though not surprising. He put up with enough from me, and the only reason he didn't blow my cover was most likely the extra work I did for free. Or the fact that he truly didn't care who Boba Fett was under all that steel.

But then, did anybody? I had not noticed anybody. No friends, no acquaintances, not even a stray affair looking for another exciting night.

I had no idea who Fett had been.  
Except maybe for lonely. How could he live a life like this and not be lonely? There was a helmet in the _SlaveI_, secured on display and obviously important. I don't think it was his, the colour-scheme didn't match the rest of his armour. But why then keep it? There had to be one person he missed, if he kept the helmet.

Sometimes I wondered who it had been. But I would never now, no matter what my imagination came up with. So I just kept it clean and safe, the last tie of somebody who was a loose end.

Sometimes I felt it happening to me; that severing of ties I had believed indestructible. Values shifted, slowly as icebergs, but as inevitable, inexorably, and one morning I woke up, wondering how Lorna Kees had ever gotten along with her worldview. That took some swallowing and screamed for a hot bubble bath and girly behaviour, but even that was not always working.

Sometimes I was scared to forget who I am.

And sometimes it was very convenient to do so. Like now. Dealing with Imperial officers was even less agreeable than dealing with Lord Vader in person. Vader was easier because, if he felt contempt, you could not see it, and you know he was speaking his mind exactly. One wrong move and you were dead. Easy.

The officers on the other hand, they _liked_ to show contempt. They wanted you to know that you were inferior. On whatever argument they based that view, but they treated you accordingly. And I hated it. Feeling inferior to Lord Vader was fine with me, but feeling inferior to a blob in an Imperial uniform was beyond question. Not even Lorna would do that anymore. So I put on the most haughty airs I could find and assumed that Mr. Imperial was just trying not to show how scared he actually was. It was all a matter of perspective.

"The transaction has been authorized," I was told in a nasal voice. "It will be completed within the hour."

I was rather pleased to find that Vader had not backed off. I didn't expect the sum to be as high as offered even though I had not asked Vader to intervene and get Solo personally. But who was I to argue. I graced the officer with a curt nod and whipped around, making sure he had to lean back far if he did not want my cloak to cut through his face. Small satisfactions. At least I had been paid once already for Solo. And the sooner I got my second bounty the better. Time would be long until Vader's mystery man arrived. Why hadn't he just told me? I could have gotten Skywalker for him directly no problem.

I returned to the _SlaveI_, trying to sort Vader and his erratic behaviour. Maybe Sith were not the most stable of all people. Maybe I should be more careful. Maybe this was not a good idea after all, I flopped down in the cockpit. Maybe this was all a little too big for me. I started the computer. Maybe -

- well maybe it was not that bad after all. I stared at the full bounty on Solo, transferred neatly to my account. Maybe this would be my downfall, but I'd die a rich woman.

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I am a liar. A great big liar and an idiot!  
Curled up in the pilot's chair of the _SlaveI_, nobody knew how tempted I was to simply unfreeze Solo and return him to his Princess. But as I am Boba Fett, of course I won't. I'll deliver him to Jabba and in this case, and that I told myself over and over again, in this case he was off a lot better frozen in carboite.

Yes, Vader froze him in carbonite. It was only a test for Skywalker, though. Now I wonder who that man is, and why Vader should think it safer to immobilize him like that. Maybe Skywalker had similar powers to the Dark Lord? In that case, I'd be careful, too. Imagine two people fighting with the Force as a weapon. I don't want to be near for sure. And I'm not. I grabbed my merchandise as soon as Lando proclaimed it still alive and would have run for it, too, if Vader had not granted me an escort of two Imperials and another two stormtroopers.

Solo was a frightful sight, encased in the dark grey carbonite, but then the worst was already over. For me at least. I don't think Princess Organa feels the same way. Who'd have thought, but she actually loved Solo. Bad decision on her side, for sure, but staged rather heartbreaking.

The whole group was led in, while I stood waiting in the bustle of the freezing room. A golden protocol droid was strapped to Chewbacca's back and talking without pause. I wondered why the Wookiee hadn't shut it off. Lando was with them, explaining that Solo was to be put into carbon freeze. Now that was a cute little idea. I turned to Vader.

"What if her doesn't survive? He's worth a lot to me.:" I wanted to know.

"The Empire will compensate you if he dies." He turned and pointed at Solo. "Put him in!"

What could I say, I did not much care from who I got the money, though the prospect of not having to return to Jabba the Hutt was tempting. Still it would not be worth it to kill for. I was not that far gone yet.

As soon as Chewbacca realized what was going on, he got a real fit. He knocked down several stormtroopers trying to save Solo, but that would only get him killed. That was Solo's thought, too, because he went over to the raging Wookiee and tried to calm him down. Told him to take care of the princess. That worked, and though Chewbacca still howled mournfully, he stopped fighting.

I wondered if things would finally get on. Standing her and having to watch this scene was not to my liking. I preferred it, when the more humane parts of such business stayed where I could not see them. Indeed, everything seemed to go well. Solo kissed his princess goodbye passionately. I remembered kisses like that, only that they had all been faked. And suddenly I envied Organa for having found for real, what I had no hope of ever finding.

"I love you," Organa told Solo, and she meant it. But what did that nerf herder answer. "I know."

Break my heart, why don't you? At least, he went into the carbon freeze, looking back at his friends. Everybody was sad, if accepting. Not that there was much you could do with that many stormtroopers _and_ Darth Vader around. What an answer 'I know' was anyway. One without much hope, I guess. And what would the princess have gained from an admission? If Solo didn't survive the carbon freeze, it might be better for her, if there was space to doubt his feelings. Not that she would. Those glances said more than words could have.

Seems I am still a hopeless romantic inside. And that feels good, it means that I am still me. No matter how much this trade has changed me, I still rooted for love. And that was why I wanted to go and unfreeze that nerf herder, so that he could go and tell the princess the truth, that he loved her, too.

But, of course, I couldn't. And so I wouldn't. It was good to know that Solo had survived the freezing process and was now in perfect hibernation. There was a slim chance that his friends would get him back. Eventually. The princess turned away her face, when the carbonite hissed into the freezer, tears streaking her face. She deserved to know he loved her, too, deserved to hear it from Solo himself.

As soon as the process was over, huge tongs lifted the block of carbonite up. Calrissian asserted that Solo was still alive and he was all mine. With an imperial escort I set off, mixed feeling still swirling inside me. Not that it showed. If anything I was even more distanced than usually, more detached, more apart from my surroundings. I did not even care that Skywalker had arrived. There was no money in that one, anyway. Vader was keen on doing that job himself. Interference most likely lead to sudden death.

I ran into the man, though, on my way back. Not very talkative, shot before he said hello. Might have been because of the stormtroopers in my escort. We reached the SlaveI without any other incident, though. I had them put Solo into the cargo hold, it was not as if he needed a cell in his state, and took off as soon as everybody else was off board. Now all I had to do was deliver Solo to the Hutt. And yes, I was sure he was off a lot better in carbonite. Jabba had an interesting taste in art, and he might just keep Solo like this. Which would spare him loads of pain and torture.

I kept telling myself that over and over. Better off like that, no pain, better off like that, no pain. Not my fault. And his friends would have better chances to find him still alive if they wanted to rescue him, too. I stared at the whirling lights of hyperspace, wondering when my life had become a mirror of those chaotic movements.


	4. Chapter 4

I did not expect to arrive at Tatooine unbothered. There was always somebody willing to steal away the bounty just before it was handed over, and so I blazed into the upper atmosphere of the desert planet with all weapons ready and my shields up. It was a nice little feature, no matter how much work I had to invest in keeping it running smoothly. It was certainly worth all the trouble.

As expected a ship was already waiting for my arrival, the targeting system had it locked and with a small pressure of my thumb all weapons fired at once. I did not wait to see if I hit but threw the _Slave_ into a corkscrew away from the other ship. Only when I registered the explosion on my monitors, did I take the time to see whom I blasted out of the sky. The ship identified as _IG-2000_, the vessel of IG-88. I knew he had friends out there, and now I just hoped his series was a small one and production was discontinued before on of them got me.

Like the one dropping out of hyperspace right behind me now. Another _IG-2000_ opened fire on me, at the same time, it broke into my systems and demanded that I hand over Solo. As if. Instead I plummeted the _Slave_ towards the surface. Let that binary bucket try to solve this.

"Surrender your prisoner and you have a thirty percent probability of surviving this encounter." IG-88's voice sounded from the speakers.

That droid needed more contact with irrational beings, I decided. And I knew that even if I kept Solo, my chances were much better. Irrational behaviour was my first advantage. The other -

" I am far more capable of withstanding the gravometric pressures than you. This tactic has a zero probability of success."

It seemed it had read my moves and projected something completely wrong. I could have laughed, even as IG-88 closed the space between the ships. Carefully, I manoeuvred the _Slave_ into a position next to the _IG-2000's_ trajectory and turned on the inertial damping system. As the _SlaveI_ stopped almost in midair, I was slammed back into the pilot's seat hard, gasping for air. The scream of tortured and tearing electronics filled the cockpit as my hyperdrives got utterly thrashed.

I barely took the time to tone down the acoustic sensors. With the other ship in front of me, the targeting systems flared with an angry red and I fired all ion of my cannons at the vessel at once. At the same time I punched the tractor beam into live pulling the ship closer while I readied the missile launcher. There was a message for those droids I wanted them to have, though, before this one met oblivion. Maybe they would think twice before they went for me the next time.

"The Empire has issued a 'dismantle on sight' order for you, but I wish they offered a higher bounty," I said flatly. "You're persistent, but you're not worth much." Then I launched a full bank of concussions missiles. The cloud of debris did not batter my shields badly, most of it was small to tiny and reversing the direction of the tractor beam at the last second repulsed most of it towards Tatooine.

I took the time to breathe deeply before I followed it. It was unlikely that the IG-88s had left any competition alive around. So I should be pretty safe now. Adjusting my trajectory I tried get into the right mindset fort bargaining with Jabba. That fat slug gave me headaches, but he paid well, when he paid, and liked to provide what he considered hospitality to his top notch hunters.

Among those accommodations was also a free space to land nearby his palace. Not that I intended to leave the _Slave_ for long where it was easily accessible for his henchmen. But I could put it back into orbit with the remote soon enough. So I bade my time to shut down everything and code lock it, not wanting to leave the safety of my ship sooner that I had to. I even took the time double check the life sign readouts on the carbonite encasing, but everything was fine there. Before I could stop myself, I had reached out to buff up the face of Solo, and only an inch before his face I stopped. What if he still realized what was going on, if only direct contact? Slowly, I retracted my hand. Dead or alive, Solo was no merchandise to be trifled with.

The imperials had left me the repulsor sledge on which Solo had been transported in Cloud City. Probably, because it was not even theirs but belonged to Calrissian, still I was grateful for it now. It would have been kind of humiliating, having to ask for a transport before I could actually show off the bounty head. I would not let anything like that dent my precious reputation.

As the ramp rose behind me, I activated the last security measures from the remote control in the helmet. Amazing how easy that came to me now. In the beginning I had had loads of trouble finding out how to do anything with that bucket over my head, be it only seeing. The overlaying pictures of what my eyes saw in front of and behind that visor was a tricky affair. Being used to the usual three senses and not even tapping their whole potential, the sheer amount of information coming in through the helmet's sensors was enough to get me bad head aches.

Besides see, it could project trajectories, show the ultraviolet and infrared spectrum of the light, even if there was a wall in front of me, I could get an approximate picture of what lay beyond with the roentgen or supersonic or combination of all that and more. Of course, one had to be careful not to run into the now transparent wall headfirst. I had done that a few times and it had hurt. On demand I could get analyses of the surrounding grounds, the soil, the air, everything, and if I wanted, I could enhance the olfactory receptors and blast my brain away with a single rose.

Hearing was also not what it used to be. I could listen to the insects crawling through the ground, to conversations on the other side of the room, through walls, special equipment even caught resonances through solid rock. Again, you had to remember to tone down the sensors again. It is incredible how much noise a falling flimsyplast can make. But once you got used to all the extras and gimmicks, the thing was a real lifesaver. I don't think many people know what those helmets can do, or maybe Fett just had his upgraded insanely. I subvocalized the last security sequence. Anybody who still managed to get aboard now was very unlikely to get off again until I returned.

Before I had half neared Jabba's throne room, Fortuna came to greet me. He seemed a little surprised by the state Solo was in, but who could blame him? I don't think carbon freezing bounty heads for delivery was a widespread custom.

"Get lost, Fortuna," I told him as he reached out for Solo. "And keep your greedy hands out of my business."

"Of course, of course," the TwiLek hastily replied, his eyes glued to the flame thrower at my wrist. I had pointed that at him with an obvious movement, never slowing my steps.

Fett was a feared man, even in hellholes like this, but even fear can be overcome with the right amount of credits as incentive. Besides I couldn't stand that slick major-domo. He was constantly plotting, probably against everybody, but most certainly against Jabba. Once I even had to leave an ugly imprint of my left gauntlet in his equally ugly face. Jabba almost rolled of his dais laughing, when I came to pay the compensation to him directly instead of Fortuna. I made an enemy there, but so far he left me alone more often than not.

Jabba's throne room, if you wanted to call it that, was filled with the usual mix of smugglers, criminals and unfortunate dancing girls. My sensors immediately reported the presence of Neelah, but that would have to wait. I took up position on the grid over the Rancor's cage, though I knew there were bets, wagering when and if Jabba would ever drop me, just for the fun of seeing how I did against thae monster. But since he had not yet tired of the animal, I felt pretty safe. Last time I heard the odds for the actual fight, they were still in my favour.

"The mighty Boba Fett," the giant slug greeted me in Huttese. "What have you brought me there?" With a podgy hand he pointed at the block of carbonite.

I was deeply grateful for the inbuilt translations system. The translation sounded hollow and flat, but it was better than having to guess. Besides, despite its complete lack of emotions, the translation was impeccable. Subvocalising what I intended to say and the repeating what the system fed through my audio sensors saved my day many times, too. I did not know if Fett had spoken more languages, but with this helmet, he must have seemed a real whiz kid with languages.

"Han Solo," I replied, pulling the block upright so that the Hutt could see Solo's face. "Encased in carbonite, but alive and to be reanimated at will. Easy storage, no extra cost, and you can even hang him up at a wall for display."

The last bit had been a bit of an inspiration. If Solo was used as wall decoration, his future fate would include much less pain than getting thawed by the Hutt. Besides, Jabba's extreme taste for trophies was known to most in the underworld. It was worth a try.

The Hutts deep laughter resounded in the sudden silence of the room. "Your daring is as outrageous as your price, bounty hunter." His tone seemed more amused than annoyed, which was a good sign.

"For a small extra payment, I will provide you with pegs and a hammer," I answered.

The huge figure wobbled dangerously as Jabba laughed again. Salacious Crumb took the chance to topple of the dais with laughter even a few courageous underlings joined in. The others were not yet sure if it was me that amused the Hutt, or the prospect of having me terminated within the next moments.

"You will get your money," he said after he had calmed again. "But not one credit more!" On a signal two of his guards stepped forward and took Solo away. Jabba let his gaze wander around his throne room, probably wondering where to put up his latest trinket.

I nodded and merged into the crowd. It was not easy, even with such a bunch of villains, but soon I had my back against a wall. Carefully, I scanned the room, make notes of who was there and who was missing, calculating the amount of danger currently surrounding me. While I was at it, I also scanned Neelah. She looked into my direction, as if she knew, but so far she had never approached me. I did not wonder why.

But I did wonder who she was, why she was here, and why Fett should keep a file of her, when he had know exactly as much as I did now. He probably wanted to turn her into profit one day and had just waited for the rest of the puzzle to appear. But she had better be worth a lot. By now I had kept the silent vigil for years, not knowing why and for whom. Still, I felt better knowing that because of my interventions, Neelah did not suffer as bad as other girls. And that, like me, she was in little danger to end up as Rancor food.

After a last check of the room, I left towards the kitchen, hoping to grab a bite before I went to my room. I did not really like the idea that Jabba had a room reserved for me, but being who I was, or at least pretended to be, what choice did I have? Staying on the ship was out of the question here. Playing games with the Hutt was one thing, but offending his hospitality was suicide. So I would have to get the _SlaveI_ back into orbit, since I was probably down here for longer. Jabba had never specified _when_ I would get the money.


	5. Chapter 5

I had stayed at Jabba's after collecting the bounty. It was not as if I had many other places to go, and besides Jabba had peculiar habits of paying, especially a bounty as high as 100,000 credits. Of course I didn't bother to tell him I got more than that already for delivering Solo and Organa to the Empire. I didn't even want to _think_ of the haggling that would ensue. So I kept my mouth shut and put up with Jabba's delaying tactics.

I folded my hands behind my had, lying on the bunk in my usual room, balancing the helmet on my belly. As it turned out the princess had escaped from Cloud City, and not much later had turned up with the Wookie Chewbacca. Her disguise was a pretty good idea, too, dressing up as Boussh and even demanding the bounty on Chewbacca's head. The woman had guts.

I didn't know what she had hoped to achieve though. It was obvious she had come for Solo, but after unfreezing him, Jabba had just put him into a cell and her in chains and scant clothes on his dais. I just hoped Jabba never found out about my true sex, or I would probably end up just like the princess.

A heavy pounding on the door startled me, and automatically I thumped the helmet over my head before even answering. Then I unbolted the heavy door. "Come in," I said, taking a cautious step back. Two Gamorrean guards stood in the door, and I began lifting my blaster when they shoved a human form into the room.

"From Jabba, enjoy her," the rear guard grunted. Then they turned and left me with yet another girl. I sighed. Over the years Jabba had sent a number of girls to my quarters, probably meant as a nice gesture, but… I turned to light the room properly and see whom he sent this time. There had been a new redhead arriving lately, in that case the night would be trying she looked pretty spirited.

Most girls seemed rather happy to spend a night away from Jabba, but still each had a different way of taking it. Some had tried to seduce me, make me fall in love and be promised to be taken away from here. Others had tried to persuade me to kill Jabba so they'd be free, and some had even stated they'd kill me if I tried anything. That was amusing, even if sad, and I like those girls best. They were content to spend a night in my bed without getting bothered.

But when the light went on, I found princess Organa on my floor, already half way standing again and glaring at me. The scant dress Jabba had allowed her showed more skin than most bathing suits, and she was obviously unhappy with it. Still, I decided that she was actually good-looking -- not one of the many dolls that Jabba acquired constantly. If she really came for Solo, he could call himself a lucky man.

"You touch me --" she began -- "touch me and one of us is going to die!"

She meant it. Apart from being one of the more interesting threats I ever heard, the princess was also dead serious about it. She'd try to kill me or die trying. I liked her. Lowering my blaster I pointed at the cover of the bed. "Cover yourself, I'm not going to touch you." I shook my head slightly.

"You're not?" She sounded very suspicious. Probably she had expected me to ransack her the moment the door closed. And who could blame her in this place? But I felt I needed to give her a reason to alleviate her doubts, but I couldn't think of anything to tell her. Nothing that would make sense, except the truth or -

"Sex between those not married is immoral," I finally got out. Probably the worst reason ever, and not credible at all, but it was too late now.

"Yeah, so is rape," she replied and the sarcasm is unmistakable in her tone.

"So is rape," I said flatly, not able to come up with anything better. I settled down on the bed again, watched her wrapping the sheet around her.

"You're not going to call the guards to take me back to Jabba?" she asked then.

"And insult Jabba?" I asked back. And here I had been thinking the girl used her head. "I don't think so. He'd feed you to the Rancor, and hold a grudge against me. You can go back in the morning."

She watched me, trying to figure out what kind of game I was playing. Not that I intended to tell her.

"So we just sit here. All night."

I shrugged. "The stones are cold. I f you want to use the bed, you're welcome to it." Now that had been a mistake. She obviously took that invitation down the wrong way. Her muscles tensed.

"And you'lljust sit there. All night." The scepticism in her voice was unmistakeable, and I wondered what kind of men she had surrounded herself with. Or was it just underworlders in general that had such a bad reputation? I knew, I kept mine meticulously clean where women were involved. But Organa had probably not been that thorough in her research.

"I won't hurt you. I won't touch you," I explained patiently. "Sleep if you will, if you're expecting Skywalker, you might need your strength."

He head jerked up. This time she scrutinized me more closely and it took some self-control to show no reaction. Who ever taught her that glare had been good.

"That's why you're still here," she finally said. "You're waiting for Luke, to bring him back to the Empire!"

I made no move. So what. I knew that Skywalker had escaped Vader on Bespin. So I assumed that he still wanted him and would be happy to have him delivered. And though the Emperor now seemed interested in Skywalker, too, I'd rather take him to Vader. There were some things even money wouldn't make me do.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you fighting for them?" she wanted to know, her tone imploring. Her years as diplomat were certainly worth a lot.

I was rather tempted to answer. But what did I really have to say? That it had not been my choice, really, that I felt akin to Vader? That to me, he was some kind of good deep down inside. Somewhere. Sometimes. To somebody. I guessed. It did not make sense, even to me. So I fell back on the obvious.

"Over half a million credits. That's what Vader and the Hutt have paid for my work. And that was only Solo."

"Is it just money?" Organa seemed put out. "We'll pay you. Help us get out of here and we'll pay you-"

"What?" I interrupted her. And really what was there she could offer?

"More than you can imagine!" She meant it. If I helped her get out Solo and the rest of their gang she would give me what ever I wanted. If only she could. I regarded her for a moment. Thoughtful, wishing, dreaming. But Black Sun had been to strong for the Empire to destroy, and how could the rebellion ever hope to erase it then?

"You have no idea what I imagine," I informed her. Not only were the rebels in no position to restore my old life to me, they would just as soon get me killed if I affiliated with them. And if I wanted to be dead, I'd just have to take of the helmet.

"Well, then, tell me." She leaned back, resting against the wall as if preparing herself for a long answer.

There was such a power in her voice, such strength, it almost compelled you to answer. I had no idea why, but I wanted to tell her everything, right up to admitting my soft spot for Vader, ripping of my helmet and confessing it all. I never had such an impulse before. I never felt it again afterwards. She certainly had power with words.

"I imagine that you will be better off tomorrow, if you get some sleep now," I said finally. Not to mention I would be better off. Taking on Skywalker would be tough, but doing in tiredly was not going to work at all. "Listen, I don't care if you get to save Solo and live on happily ever after, or if Jabba has you killed trying. Just make sure you don't get another bounty on your heads, and I'm out of it."

She stared at me, in disbelief. Whatever she had hoped for, whatever lever she thought she had found on me, it had not worked. And judging from her reaction, that always worked. I bet it had been a great advantage in the senate to be able to manipulate people into cooperation. Fortunately, the princess didn't insist on another try. Instead she pulled up her legs, draped the blanket around her and went to sleep in a way that was probably meant to be spiteful.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had given in then. It would certainly have spared me a lot of pain. But then again, I might just have gotten me killed the sooner. Just because they survived it all, does not mean I would have as well. I voice-coded my weapons, just in case Organa wanted to try something, and set the motion sensors in the helmet to alarm if anything should approach me. Somehow I rather hoped Skywalker would come soon, so I could get out of this place. Even if I had nowhere to go, really.

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Loud pounding on my door woke me in the morning. Jabba was surprisingly awake and wanted his new plaything back. I unlocked my weapons and opened the door. Two Gamorreans stood there, one already moving towards me. He stopped, when he finally realized that the thing poking into his belly was my blaster.

"Come to get princess," he grunted barely understandable tried to move again. His companion carefully took a step back.

"Jabba will get her," I replied, arming the blaster. "But if you put a foot over this threshold, you can look at your guts on the other side of the corridor. If you live long enough to turn around." I raised the blaster a little, scraping it over the guards belly with enough pressure to break the thick skin.

The Gamorrean swallowed and took a step back. He grunted something that might have been an apology or just a hint to hurry. I didn't care. It was them that had to suffer Jabba's wrath when they came back too late.

Still pointing my blaster at them, I went back to the bed. Organa had woken up in the meantime and peeled herself out of the sheets. I indicated the door with my head. She scowled fiercely, but straightened up at the same time. She walked to the door with royal superiority, and had it not been for her scant and crumpled dress, she might have been on her way to deliver a speech. She passed me by without a second glance and dared the Gamorreans to try and touch her. Supporting that threat a little with my blaster, she got at least out of my sight without being roughly grabbed and dragged along.

And I was in for another boring day at Jabba's palace. Out of sheer boredom I had agreed on a few fights, though betting was not a real blast. The odds for me were just to high and when you are able to shoot a stun bolt through your glove, a fight is not that much of a challenge. I dutifully won them all, and tried to find something more amusing. Unlike other folk around, watching the rancor eat dancing girls was not what I considered to be fun. The same was true for about anybody being fed to the rancor.

I decided to sit on top of Jabba's chief accountant until I had my money. It would not be fun, but better than nothing to do. Besides, I liked to have my money before Skywalker arrived. If I managed to grab him here, I'd have to be off immediately, and that would feel so much better with those credits on my account.

It took me half a day, but in the end the stare and glare of Boba Fett's helmet made the accountant give in. Grudgingly he transferred the money, but was too proud to show his relief when I left and, finally, my blaster didn't point at him nonchalantly anymore. Some people.

I returned to the throne room just when everybody was having a nap. It was much quieter now, though I couldn't say it looked any better. Awake or asleep, this bunch was an ugly one. Silently, I made my was to Jabba's dais. Fortuna approached from the other side, looking happily greedy. He was followed by a cloaked figure that took up position in front of Jabba, right over the trap door of the rancor.

"Master," Fortuna woke the Hutt and announced the arrival of Skywalker. I let my eyes rest on the cloaked figure. So this was the prey.

Jabba was not so pleased to see the guy, though. It seemed he had ordered not to let Skywalker in, and, even more interesting, he told the TwiLek, that the Jedi was using a mind trick on him.

Skywalker took of his hood, and turned out to be a young man, not much younger than me, with blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. I was already wondering how to extract him from his current position and pack him up as a present for Vader.

"I must be allowed to speak," he just said. His self assurance was enviable. Of course, if he had abilities matching those of Vader, he had every right to be so. I wondered if a direct approach would work at all, or just get me killed.

"He must be allowed to speak," Fortuna echoed. That mind trick thing was mightily convenient. If it worked so well that it could override the TwiLeks fear to contradict an angry Jabba there was probably nothing you couldn't do with it.

As expected, Jabba clobbered his confused major domo and shoved him away. The incomprehension on Fortuna's face was priceless, and since I did not care for him much, I would for once have appreciated of the use of the rancor. But Skywalker was still standing squarely on the trap door. It would be a pity to see such wealth gobbled up by the beast.

"You will bring Captain Solo and the Wookiee to me."

The guy had guts. Though I already saw him sliding down to the pit now. Audacity does not go down well with Jabba, he had thrown beings to the rancor for less. And the way his hand twitched, he was close to throwing in the bounty of my life, too. In the back I saw a battle of bets being waged, everybody believing the fate of Skywalker already sealed.

I grabbed a passing guard. "Place me one thousand on Skywalker," I ordered. It was an act of desperate hope. If the Jedi managed to kill the beast, I would be rewarded doubly, by my winnings and the chance to deliver him still. If I lost, well, it never happened, Boba Fett never lost. And if that was all I could do to help Skywalker's survival, I would tempt fate to deny me and bet on him.

Jabba had in the meantime told the Jedi, that his mind tricks would not work on him. Probably because there was not enough rational 'mind' to work with, or because it was about impossible to find among the folds of fat. It's such an advantage if nobody can see what you think, even if it's written all over your face. I smirked.

"Nevertheless, I'm taking Captain Solo and his friends. You can either profit by this," at this point Skywalker made a meaningful pause, "or be destroyed! It's your choice. But I warn you not to underestimate my powers."

So he did have those magical powers of Vader. Rather impressive and probably not good for business. But it'd explain why he dared to threaten Jabba in his own palace. Be destroyed, indeed. I wondered which other trick he had up his sleeve. He would not be so stupid as to come without backup plans.

Jabba laughed, his deep throaty laugh, but though it was amused, the deadly undertone was in it, too. If I had been Skywalker, I had made a big step off the trap door now. The new protocol droid did think along the same lines.

"Master Luke," he shouted, "you're standing on-"

He never got any further. Jabba interrupted him unceremoniously, telling Skywalker off and announcing his impending death. Great. If that really came to pass, I could kiss my credits good bye. Vader would not pay a single chip for what would remain of Skywalker if the rancor got him. I clenched my fists

Suddenly, Skywalker reached out to a guard, and at the same time, the guard's blaster began to race towards him. It was an amazing display, but it seemed that Jabba had been expecting something like that to happen

"Bascka!" he cursed and let his fist drop onto the button of the trap door.

Skywalker dropped like a stone before he could take hold of the blaster. One of the quicker, if stupider guards who had went for him already followed him. The Gamorrean squeaked in terror, knowing well which fate awaited him in the pit. As the trap door closed again, everybody surged forwards to see the fight. I stayed at Jabba's side, not only because I did not like those slaughters. It was not a good excuse, but pretending to keep guard at the Hutt's side while everybody looked elsewhere and an assassination attempt was particularly easy - well, it kept me on his good side. It was better to have a Hutt who might owe you than possibly owing a Hutt.

Of course, not being able to see was straining my nerves extremely this time. A round of cheers went up when the guard was eaten, but then it was difficult to tell whether it was the rancor who had performed a neat trick or Skywalker. Time trickled by and I felt ready to explode and just take the whole palace with me.

Suddenly, there was a gasp coming from all spectators as if from one throat. It was almost drowned out by a loud crash that echoed eerily in the sudden silence. Judging from the looks of the crowed, Skywalker had won. Great, another chance to grab him as soon as I could. Maybe I could stage a kind of rescue attempt. Implausible, but I would make up a story as I went along.

Jabba on the other hand was outraged. He swung his podgy fists and demanded that the Jedi, Solo and the Wookiee be brought in front of him immediately. It is not often that you saw the guards in this place hurry, but faced with an angry Jabba, they flew about. In no time, the small group was assembled. As it seemed, Solo was unable to see, which did not derogate his insolence.

"Good, I hate long waits," what all he had to say when Jabba announced they would now be killed immediately. I just hoped that was a joke. I wanted Skywalker, and I would not be happy with the Hutt, if he killed him. I had to have a word with that slug as soon as possible.

But right then, the guard returned from the betting. No points for timing for that one.

"Threw my lot in with your money," he grinned, obviously satisfied with himself. "Thought you knew something the others didn't and was right, eh?"

I tried to glare through the visor. It worked. He took a step back, and handed over my winnings. Then he tried to slink of as inconspicuously as possible, while being glared at. Stupid scugger.

By the time he was gone, all I got from the conversation with Jabba was, Skywalker telling the Hutt, he should have bargained. He did not look worried the least, and even smiled to himself, when Jabba just laughed at him. Backup plans, loads of them, that was what his behaviour spoke of. And if I had been Jabba, I would have been a lot more careful now. Skywalker already had Solo and Chewbacca with him and Organa in a possibly advantageous position directly at Jabba. One good plan, and the Hutt would be a blot of slug slime.

The whole court broke into activity now, heading for Jabba's personal sail barge to watch the execution. I just kept standing on the dais, letting the other hurry and scuttle around. Another advantage of being close to the Hutt, I stood elevated and could think up another plan to get Skywalker, while everybody else had to see how they got along.

My mind was racing, anyway. I had no idea what the Jedi had planned, but the self-assurance he radiated, gave me hope that it was something that would save him long enough for me to do something. Jabba would be furious, but maybe Vader would do something against that if I brought him Skywalker. Enemies and allies, you always had to weigh those against each other carefully. Especially, when they were about to change sides. In the end, I decided to wait until Skywalker made his move. I always found it easier to react.

When we reached the pit, I left Jabba's side and got a good place at window. Good, because it was big enough for me to leave through it and intervene for Skywalker anytime. If they thought I was helping them, the rebels might even help me. It was all a matter of appearances. Though I was not sure how Organa would react to my intervention.

"Victims of the almighty Sarlacc," the new translation droid began. The same old babble. As if any of them would beg for mercy. I rolled my eyes. Get over with it Jabba.

As expected, Han was insulted by the notion. He stepped forward. "Threepio," he said, which was interesting. So he did know the droid, too. Maybe it was a part of the plan. And where was that astromech? What if he was the plan? Skywalker was pretty smart.

"You tell that slimy piece of … worm-ridden filth he'll get no such pleasure from us. Right?" He added looking at his friends. Those nodded and Skywalker scanned the sail barge, looking for something. Where was the astromech?

"Jabba! This is your last chance," he shouted after his glance had rested in the bow of the barge for a moment. Atromech found, but what was going to happen? Even if I used the jet pack, I would never make it to the droid in time. Gritting my teeth, I put my hand on my blaster and waited.

"Free us, or die!" The man had style. In a way he reminded me of Vader, knowing when to put on a show, but never hesitating to just crush you, should show not be of advantage.

"Move him into position," Jabba demanded in Huttese, and a guard poked Skywalker onto the plank. The excitement on the barge grew, bets were made, as always, though this time it was more on how he'd go down than if.

Skywalker looked back to his droid, but also made eye contact with his friends and - a guard. Incredible. He had managed to smuggle on of his allies into Jabba's guard. Now that was neat. I was ready to bet thousand credits on his survival now, but I was too late.

"Put him in!" Jabba ordered, and the guard moved. With a flippant gesture, Skywalker tipped his head, and jumped. No hesitation. I was about to charge in and get him before the sarlacc ate him, but Skywalker was faster. He turned around in mid-jump, grabbed the plank and used it as a lever to catapult himself back onto the skiff. He somersaulted over the surprised guard, and held out his hand. Something landed in it, he activated it and suddenly a brilliant green blade shone in his hands. Calculating from where his sabre had been thrown, I came to the position of his droid. Clever indeed.

Meanwhile chaos had erupted on the skiffs. The fake guard had attacked the other guards, while the Jedi pushed the one that had prodded him into the pit. That was my best chance, I activated the rocket pack and flew to the skiff with Skywalker on it. He had already freed Solo and Chewbacca, the guard in disguise turned out to be Calrissian. That surprised me, because he had not stricken me as the altruistic kind. Maybe his role on Bespin had gotten him a nagging conscience.

Anyway, the rebels did well enough, though Jabba's minions had already manned the guns of the sail barge and fired at the skiffs. Time to catch the prey and get lost. Carefully, I aimed my fibercord whip at Skywalker and fired. The cord wrapped itself around the Jedi's body a few times, pressing his arms against the body. With a few steps I would have him, and my rocket pack had enough fuel to get us out of the immediate danger. The plan was not perfect, but good enough.

Or would have been. Skywalker was not impressed with my technique, in fact, he seemed rather annoyed. He had not dropped his weapon, either, and now slashed the blade upwards and just cut the cord. Already leaning forward for my next step, I lost the balance and tumbled forward. Stupid. And foolish. And not graceful at all. I hoped all the spectators died and would be unable to tell the tale.

Keeping an eye on the chaos around me through the helmet, I laid low for a while. If things worked out easy, Skywalker and his friends might just fly away with this - no, Skywalker just jumped onto the other skiff. Great. I agree somebody had to do something about those gunners, but still. I cursed a little, wondering when I had become so good at it, but there was no helping it, I had to follow Skywalker. He was giving me quite a chase without even knowing.

As I got up, I barely heard Solo shout my name. He was not on my priority list at all. Besides he was trying to save Calrissian with a lance and that should keep him occupied. Still he whipped around, obviously taking my interference personal, and with the back end of the lance, without even meaning to, he hit the emergency lever for my rocket pack of all things.

The jets fired, but since I had not yet reached my real trajectory, instead of landing easily on the other skiff, I hit the side of the sail barge with full speed. I don't know how I would have looked without the Mandalorian armour. Probably just my feet recognizable, sticking out of a puddle of goo that had been me seconds ago.

With the armour though, all that happened was an enormous bang that made my head ring madly. Dazed, I saw the sand approach, staring at the fine granulation of the yellow dust.

I did not worry too much, though as I tumbled towards the gaping hole. Once I arrived at the bottom, I would just use my jet pack to fly out again. Those tentacles looked nasty, but I doubted they had much to put up against blasters or vibroblades.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Most of this is shamelessly plagiarized from 'A Barve Like That' by Montgomery. .'

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Well, it turned out that the reason people did not get out of the sarlacc again was not that they had no jet packs and thus couldn't fly. The reason they didn't get out was that they were glued to the skin of the beast with sticky goo and tentacles. Just my luck. I had woken suddenly, thinking 'you are Boba Fett' which is strange and should not happen. I am still me.

Of course, I had tried to get my blaster, but hey, those tentacles glued me to the wall perfectly, I could not move. And what was worse, my feet did not touch the ground. Wherever I was, I was hanging helpless with no idea how far above -

I, indeed, was Lorna Kees. I felt like whacking myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. With my tongue, I flicked the helmet's systems on again. There was still not much to see. I was in a kind of tunnel, not made from rock, but organic. But then, what did I expect, inside of the sarlacc? A few meters to each side it curved sharply out of sight. I crack sounded in the distance, and screams. It seemed I was not alone down here.

_You are Boba Fett?_

It sounded more like a question this time, I did not know what to say. What use would it be to deny down here? What use to tell the truth? Suddenly I had to think of my arrival here. It came back in a vivid rush, the images as if I was reliving them, the alarm claxons of the _SlaveI_, the shock of the dampers, the _IG-2000_ hurtling past me into the desert. I gasped. It was more intense than memory. And it had not been my idea, either.

"How did you do that to me?" I asked the darkness around me.

It felt like amusement, but it was not mine. And there was something like a voice in my head, telling me that it had been easy, that I was easy because I live strongly. Well, what choice did I have? Being Boba Fett was a pretty intense life.

"Who are you?" I wanted to know.

_As you are my past, I am your destiny,_ it replied. But that did not make much sense. I was not it's past. I was my own past, and I also intended to be in my future. I did not believe in destiny. But my opinion was obviously not asked here. My memory flashed back to the negotiations with Jabba.

It had been a little embarrassing then, and it did not feel any better now. I did not know how I had gotten the crazy idea, but once I started it had been difficult to stop. Getting Solo across as a piece of art had taken quite a life of its own.

_Art created by the Dark Lord,_ I heard myself say again, quite pleased with the idea then. Art created by Vader just had to be worth something. Now I tried to wince, if this thing was going to grope through all my memories, I had to do something before it found some really embarrassing ones. Or Kestrel.

_The grimace is quite - wonderful,_ Jabba said in my head. It was symptomatic that he should like something like that. I tried to notch out of the memory as good as I could, wondering how to escape. There were some memories which were just a no-go.

_You will get your money, _Jabba's voice pounded through me, announcing the end of that special scene. And it was gone. I shook my head, trying to get it clear, but it felt like an abused apparatus, the gears twisted, broken, and stuck.

"Don't do that to me again," I demanded.

_If you keep me amused…_

To hell with it. Was I to choose the memories to be ravaged myself? "Who the blazes are you?"

_The sarlacc -,_ it began, but I snorted.

"Sarlacci are not sentient."

There was a short pause. _I am Sujeso._

The wall seemed to react to the name, shivering softly. _I had one like you, once, bright and sharp around the edges._

"I am a hunter," I hoped to be convincing. "I bring down those who deserve it, there is little room to be unclear on the subject." Well, at least it _sounded_ like a real Fett answer.

_You remind me of someone, a Jedi I ate thousands of years ago. Would you like to meet her?_

The idea of meeting the half-digested ghost of a Jedi from millennia ago scared me. There was not much left in the galaxy that could do that, but then, most of the galaxy was flesh and blood and could be dealt with terminally, if necessary. Also, I did not want yet another being in my head, having this Sujeso in and out of my thoughts at his will was bad enough.

"Keep your Jedi to yourself," I said.

_Very well. But you will look forward to a break in the tedium soon enough._

The presence vanished and I hung a lone in the smelly darkness. Not even the screams of those who had fallen in with me could be heard anymore. Either they were all dead already, or tangled into similar conversations as I had just been. I wondered if it was better to be digested quickly or hang here, bothered by Sujeso.

For the longest time, nothing happened. I tried to sleep, but it was just not happening. Maybe something the sarlacc did, maybe I was just too cranky. And as Sujeso had predicted, I got bored soon.

"Is there a purpose?" I asked the emptiness, trusting that I would be heard.

_For you?_ Sujeso seemed thoughtful. _I suppose not._ _But your life and death belong to me now. And so you will serve my purpose. You are no longer a self, you are part of me now._

"The air smells to bad to me to believe that," I snarled. What did he think he would achieve? Being a part of him? Don't make me laugh. Tentatively, I tugged at a restraint, and was crushed to the wall immediately. The pain made clear that I was still very much myself. And that would be the way it would stay. I gritted my teeth.

_You and I and everything else - we are just a process. A process that has broken away from the Real, but sooner or later, we will rejoin it. You've barely been down here a day, Boba Fett. There are sentients who've been kept alive for hundreds of years. _

There was a long pause.

_Thousands of years, in some cases._ He seemed weary beyond belief.

And then it hit me. "You lie," I accused him. "You are not the sarlacc! You are down here - with me!"

_Don't be so sure that I am not the sarlacc. I am her longer than you can imagine. And when I am happy, it is happy. What amuses me, amuses it._

There was a ripple running through the wall behind me, almost like laughter.

_I expect you will be with us for some time._

I wished I had a thermal detonator. I would have blown him up right then. Him, the sarlacc, me, everything. He left me alone then, maybe not wanting to feel my anger, leaving to bother another unfortunate soul caught down here, somebody more amusing.

I waited. I waited some more and finally dawn came. The tunnel to my left lightened up, a little at first, but when the sun stood directly over the sarlacc's gaping mouth, I could see my surrounding clearly. To clear. The walls were greyish green and looked damp, but that was not all. It was covered with tentacles, some several meters long, hundreds of thousands of them. Mostly, they lay still, but sometimes one would suddenly whip around, it's tip breaking the sound barrier and cracking loudly. I had heard the cracking before, but knowing where it came from did not make things much better. A little better than thinking it was breaking bones, but not much.

I drank a little from the water supply. It had grown warm and the reek filtering in through the helmet did not improve the taste. But I had to save energy. I could not rely on the input of the solar cells hidden on me, mostly because they were covered with goo, but also because the light making it down here was not enough to run anything. If I wanted to get out, I had to be careful with my resources. Still I wondered how big the sarlacc was, since the cracking was continuous, but the tentacles I could see moved barely. How many of them would I have to fight on my way out?

_But you're not going to get out again - nobody has._

Sujeso took over my mind, filling it with the memory of Kess, a Corellian gambler. He had fallen into the sarlacc by accident and by now could not even remember who he really was and who the girl he loved really was. That he loved her was never in doubt, but with the personalities always shifting, taking over one another, blending, exchanging memories, it was difficult for Kess to remember what the truth he had started out with was.

He told Sujeso stories, some of his life, some parables about life, and if Sujeso was not happy with the stories, the sarlacc would digest Kess a little faster. It was meant to be a lesson and I did learn something: I needed to get out fast. I began to check my weapons.

Blaster rifle, wrist lasers, rocket dart launcher, grappling hook, flame thrower, concussion grenade launcher - but those needed to be worked with hands, hands that right now were glued tight to the stomach of the sarlacc. And if I strained, I only got gripped harder. It also tried to get its tentacles under my armour. So far without success, though the tugging at my right leg was getting a real pain. Maybe it would be enough to distract me from my burning skin.

The armour was made to keep out bullets, blaster bolts and other projectiles, to protect against blows and such, it was not made to keep liquids out. And so the digestive fluid had slowly crept over my body, burning my skin. There were only two regions untouched yet: my head and my crotch. I had known that one day this silly cod piece would be useful. In retrospect, I still wish it hadn't.

All I could use was my helmet. The comlink was dead. Either the sarlacc blocked everything, or there was just nobody around. Maybe even both, wouldn't blame anybody, this was not a classical holiday spot. I wished the sarlacc would stop wriggling my right knee, it made it even more difficult to think straight. I tried to kick.

Violently, the tentacle wrenched at my leg, pulling the knee down. I was pretty sure that without the armour, my right leg would now lie in the puddle of fluids on the ground. As it was, I just got yanked into a slightly askew position and - and my right foot was touching ground. It might not be a great help, but at least, I was not hanging metres above the floor, having to wonder about how to land when I came free. I scraped my heel softly over the ground, thinking. Then I decided.

Boosting all the helmet's sensors, I scanned my surroundings. If nothing useful came off it, I had wasted precious power, but if I wanted out, I needed to try and find out where I was more or less exactly. It was not as bad as it could have been, but not too good either. I was about forty meters under the ground, and ten from the main chamber. If I could get there, my jet pack could most likely fly me out. So the real problem was not getting upwards right now.

Then Sujeso returned.

I knew the night just as I remembered standing in front of my door, wondering about Kestrel's little surprise. I was tempted to reach out and touch the door, feel the grey plastisteel under my fingers, simply return.

But there was no return. I was still stuck in the rank darkness of the sarlacc and

- then the door opened -

It even smelled like home. The subtle aromas you tend to forget about and are surprised to smell when you return after a longer absence. The floor polish, the furniture, the subtle wooden undertone of my prized table. I felt my tears rise. Kestrel was there, his smile half shy half exhilarated, the hair slightly in disarray, the gap between his front teeth -

I wanted to scream and run, but my memory all but flung herself at him. I did not want this. I did not want to remember the flowers, the candles, the ring, the kiss, the - NO!

I leaned against my restrains, jerking violently, willing the beast to react. The sarlacc pulled its tentacles tight around me, bending my limbs, making pain explode in my head. I fought until I tumbled into a blissful unconsciousness.

It did not last long enough. When I came to myself again, Sujeso was there. Again or still, who cared. I had to get out, and be it only to pay back on Kestrel. My resolve turned into steel harder than the armour I already wore. I. Would. Get. Out!

"I swear I will get out, I swear by the life I almost had, that I will kill you."

_Kill who?_ It sounded like laughter. _The one who's talking to you? Or the one who's eating you?_

Still trying to mess with my head? Fine, I can do that, too. "Either," I replied. "Both."

That had been the wrong answer. Instead of pouting or doing something similarly useful, meaning away from me, Sujeso pushed the next set of memories on me.

She had almost gotten out, that Jedi Sujeso had told me about. And it was her memory that now dominated my mind. I hated it, not her, because it was probably not her fault, but the fact that my mind could be taken over just like that, as if it was just another of so many projectors to which a live could be watched. She almost got out.

There was not even a name to her anymore, just a presence knowing that is was, had been, might still be a sixty year old female Jedi. She did not fall into the sarlacc, but was grabbed by one of the tentacles. It was still very young than and probably did not realize that the sand that came down with her would make its digestive fluids mostly useless - for a time at least. So she laid there and thought about sarlacci and found the Choi hanging there, half digested already. That was Sujeso, almost a child still and very angry about being eaten. I could imagine.

She waited until it was day again, then called her lightsaber to her hand, cut the tentacles holding her an jumped. It was a five meter jump, and it seemed that this was not easy for a Jedi to do. I filed that down under useful facts. But she had to try, not matter how hard it would be. So she jumped, would have made it, too, if one of the tentacles had not taken hold of her ankle and pulled her down again. In the process she broke several ribs and her leg in the process, making any other attempts futile. She was caught then, and the sarlacc still in pain and angry.

The lightsaber had been lost, too. The Jedi had passed out after the fall and when she came to herself again, the weapon had been gone. The sarlacc was queasy and restrained her so hard, that the blood could not flow through her arms and legs well. She was a kind woman in a strange way. She tried to apologize to the beast, telling it that she would not have done it, if she had not been forced to.

Her constant chatter finally got on the nerves of the Choi. _If you must chatter, at least do it to the benefit of the one who can listen to you,_ he snapped.

She had fallen silent for a while, but life down here was boring. Very boring, and painful, if you counted being digested in. So she suggested to Sujeso that they tell each others stories against the boredom.

And he still was on that trip now, I guessed.

Talk to a sarlacc, indeed. Jedi were strange, if she was a typical one, and what Skywalker had done up there not long ago was something different, too. He had been stronger than this one for sure. He would not let a five meter leap detain him. But then he was much younger, too. I was a little relieved that I did not have to take up Skywalker now. He was so strong, and those powers were a little scary. I would probably not have gotten him anyway. I let myself sag a little.

Such thoughts were vain as long as I was stuck here. And the longer I was stuck, the less likely I was to get out. And the more hurt I would be. It was a pleasant idea, just hanging in here until I was to weak to go after Skywalker. But I had no choice really. If I wanted out, I had to go soon. And if that meant I would have to face down Skywalker - well, bad luck for me.

I considered my options which were few. I had one heel on the ground, nothing much to stand on, much less to jump with. The tentacles held me firmly, if not painfully, and as long as they did, there was nothing I could do. _I can take you with me,_ I thought suddenly. And if it's the last thing I do. I did not take kindly to being digested, and even worse to having my mind and memory ravaged. Well then, so be it.

_I miss the Jedi._

"Then you should not have eaten her," I accused Sujeso.

_I didn't!_ There was definitely anger in Sujeso's voice. _The sarlacc ate her!_

"And you didn't stop it. You didn't help her," I went on. "You did not help anybody in the four thousand years you have been here!"

It worked. Sujeso got mad, and the sarlacc reacted to it. Around me the wall began to shift, the tentacles moved and I got squeezed harder than before.

"And now you are hurt, just because I _told_ you that? Why did you not help the Jedi escape? She would have come back for you, she would have helped you!"

Around me the tentacles began to whip around, the wall behind me wobbled and I got pressed into it real hard. Just what I needed, just a little more…

"Why did you never think about that, huh? Because you're stupid!" I was almost suffocated. "Because you're a miserable wretch of an excuse for a sentient being! Because you don't have the courage -"

Around me mayhem wreaked havoc, as well as that could happen in a digestive tract. I was squeezed against the wall so tightly that lights rushed across my vision, little stars rushing past to show me the way. I strained with all my power, dug my heel into the ground and pushed upwards.

As my body pushed up, squeezed fast against the sarlacc's innards, the emergency switch of my jetpack was pushed down. It blazed to life, burning the sarlacc behind be, and setting everything in the vicinity on fire. The beast almost suffocated me in its pain, the tentacles whipping around like deadly snakes, but not for long. the jetpack was never meant to work in such close quarters.  
It exploded.

Everything around me was on fire. _I_ was on fire, burning like a torch. The shockwave had thrown me on the ground, and I must have been unconscious for a few seconds. The armour did not do well. Corroded by the fluids it was cracked in many places, the fire scorched my skin, the exposed parts of me, and where the armour touched my body, it was searing hot as well.

_Take you with me,_ I thought grimly, reaching for the grenade launcher. If I was on fire, so would he. I aimed at the ceiling, barely thirty centimetres above my head and fired. Then I flung myself back into the burning acid on the floor.

I was not fast enough. The concussion grenade exploded, tearing up the world and slamming me hard into the ground. My left arm had still been under my body, and the world went down in white pain as it snapped under the weight of my body. Tears shot into my eyes, rendering most of the electronics temporarily useless. _Going down in a blaze of glory, real Fett style there, Lorna._

Sand rained down on me, extinguishing some of the flames, sucking up a little of the acid, kindling hope. I don't think I have ever felt as heavy as when I lifted myself up, my left arm dangling uselessly at my side. _Sand.  
_I looked up.  
_Forty meters under the ground.  
_I looked along the burning corridor to the main chamber.  
_Sujeso was there, and tentacles of a very angry sarlacc. Strong and uninjured tentacles.  
_I raised the grenade launcher again.  
_One down, two to go.  
_With no sarlacc in the way to stop it, the grenade went high into the sand. There was only a slight shaking of the ground when it exploded. More sand came down.  
_Two down, one to go._

I looked up. I looked at the launcher. Then I looked to where the main chamber was.  
If it had a trigger, it could be short circuited. If it had a power cell, it could overload.

Carefully I set the butt of the weapon down on the floor. I wriggled the poisoned darts from the launchers at my knee into the barrel, I wedged the last grenade in over them with the power cell of my blaster. Difficult if you had only one arm and two wobbly legs, but I did it. I mead sure the power cell would overload and trigger the grenade launcher. I hurled the weapon into the direction of the main chamber with all my strength. It did not go far.

It would take a long time to overload, but then, I would take a long time to get out of here, too. I piled up sand under the opening until it was high enough to pull myself out. Forty metres. I began to climb.

I had thought it would be a little like swimming upwards through a sea of sand. It was not. It was much more like trying to swim up a waterfall - in complete darkness. At first I was sacred to lose the way, sand all around and I was going so slow. I turned off everything in my helmet except life support and the display indicating where up was. I need not have worried so much. Down here the sand was packed, hard as durasteel, where the grenade had not gone trough it. With bare hands, I would not have gotten anywhere.

It took forever. My whole body ached, burned, throbbed and the sand ground on my exposed, raw skin. Fine dust filtered into my air system, and slowly choked me. I grew tired. I wanted to sleep, give up, hang in here and forget. I already closed my eyes, there was nothing to bee seen in this darkness anyway, only a small red arrow pointing upwards.

Suddenly, my hand grabbed hold of nothing. I felt around, but there was indeed nothing. When I bent my wrist, I could make out sand below it. Sand below! I wanted to break into a flurry of movements and rush to the surface, see light, feel air, breathe -

Bit I knew that I would just get stuck if I moved to hasty now, not mentioning that I might not quite be in the condition to move fast at all. Carefully, I unearthed myself, pulled one leg out of the ground, pulled up the other leg, laid down flat on my belly to give the sand time to settle down under me.

That was the reason, I was sure. Let the sand settle, nothing to do with my condition, nothing at all. My panting was feeble, so what. There were dots dancing in front of my eyes, but that was probably just the helmet display malfunctioning, too much sand. And I did feel my body, all of it, painfully. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry. It was all over.

I rolled onto my back, staring into the glaring blue of the sky.  
I had made it.  
Killed the sarlacc.

_Killed it._

I have not been eaten. The sky got blurry as tears rose to my eyes.

_Alive._

I had made it.  
But to what end? I did not feel the sand stinging in my wounds anymore. My broken arm was a subdued throb, my breath seemed to go ragged at best.  
I looked at the wavering sky.  
Cloudless blue desert over Tatooine - I inhaled it deeply; saw it grow dark at the edges of my vision - exhaled, and let the darkness come.


	7. Chapter 7

I awoke to pain. Loads of it, a real cacophony. A dull pain hummed through my whole body, and spikes of bright pain shot through me randomly. My skin prickled and burned and my eyes felt as if they had closed, including a wagonload of sand behind my lids. I could not open them. I could not move. I even wondered, if I was dead, but there were voices. Faint, and not incomprehensible, but voices I knew nevertheless. I tried to relax. There was nothing worse that could come. If they wanted me in pain, they had done a perfect job, and right now, there was nothing I could do.

"Help?" I guess it was my voice. But it sounded distant, strange, not to mention weak. Maybe it was a voice from my past, maybe it was the voice Lorna had lost when she became me.

"What happened?" I knew that voice, could not place it right now, but come to think of it, I couldn't even place my own voice. I wondered whether knowing the voice was good. Boba Fett did not have many, if any friends.

"Sarlacc … swallowed me," speaking felt as if the air was rough as sand. But I couldn't stop now. Somebody had to know. "…killed it … blew it up."

"He's dying," a female voice came from far away. I wondered why she should talk to the man about him in third person. Some cultures.

"Manaroo." The man speaking again. "Do you know who this is?" He sounded scared as well as excited. I wondered who the second guy around was.

"I don't care," the voice I figured was Manaroo replied. "Help me get him inside."

And then was I that lifted, and suddenly I realized that the second man around was Boba Fett. They did not know - not yet. Because if they intended to keep me alive, they would have to take of that armour. If my eyes had not been closed already, I would have done so now.

I was lifted, carried, and it did not really hurt. Or maybe it did, but I was too far away from my body to feel it. I did not want to be in that body. Even now that I died, it did not truly belong to Lorna Kees anymore. It belonged to Boba Fett.

"Hang on," one of them said, but I could no longer discern who it was. "I'll get you someplace safe."

Dead was safe. Nothing could happen to you once you went there. Someplace safe? Couldn't imagine anything safer right now. Something cold touched my throat and everything winked out of existence.

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I was hanging in a throbbing nothingness: blind, but not in darkness; floating, but feeling the touch of something all over me; in silence, but hearing - a voice. Female, familiar, close by. Not the one that was called Manaroo. How many people were around, seeing me like this, knowing?

I forced myself into my body; this floating would not get me anywhere. But it was so nice. No worries, no feelings, no responsibilities, nothing. I did not even have to be Lorna Kees, I just was.

Willing my eyes to open was an effort. It was not easy, not even once the lids got the idea. Slowly darkness descended, and then a slit of light appeared. I was back, trying to pry my own eyes open with willpower. It was just in time. The woman was about to turn, but I caught her profile, her hair, her movements - Neelah. The mystery girl from Jabba's palace. I wondered what she wanted here.

Two droids were showing her off, and my eyes dropped shut, bringing the darkness back. I was lying on my back, staring into the pattern behind my closed eyes, feeling the throbbing of my body. Where had my liquid nirvana gone? I hoped it would return, claim me, help me forget everything.

I only wished, I knew what Neelah wanted. Or who she was.

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I woke up. It was a simple and at the same time amazing process. I remembered floating, and the absence of time, pain, and self. And suddenly, it is like mornings long ago, with no appointments to keep and you softly floated from sleep to waking. I had no idea how much time had passed. I did not know where I was and who would be around, if I was prisoner or guest. I was in need of help anyway, so maybe that didn't matter much.

The room around me was hewn from rock, stuffed with crates and medical equipment, most of which seemed to be connected to me. One of the two droids was fussing over me, the other was probably getting whoever. Looking down at myself, I heaved a sigh. Pretending to be Boba Fett would be very difficult with those two appendages, even if they were covered in bandages like everything else of me. The impending talk would certainly be interesting.

To my complete surprise, the other droid returned with Dengar. I could not fathom what would make my former rival help me. Last time we ran into each other, I had blown the hyperengines of his ship to pieces and left him stranded in space. And last I saw him, he had been at Jabba's, I remember seeing him with one of the dancing girls. I was certain that he did not help me out of mere altruism, and I was a little afraid to hear what the price would be.

"You were saying things in your sleep," was the first thing he said, and that surprised me more than anything. Did he not wonder? Did he have no questions? What was he aiming at? I decided to be more than careful until I found out.

"Is that so?" I tried to keep my voice detached. Which was not very difficult since if felt as if it belonged to somebody else anyway. I watched as he poured a cup of water. "What did I say?"

"Nothing important." Dengar was obviously playing careful, too. It felt good somehow to know that I still had a little of the Fett-bonus working for me. "Something about not liking so many people around you, stuff like that."

"Ah," I just said, happy that I had not babbled about Kestrel, very good. That would have been more than embarrassing. "Any other surprises?"

A smirk crossed his face while held the cup to my lips. "You tell me."

I sipped the water, not realizing until then just how thirsty I was. I felt as if I had never drunk before. And I don't think I ever drank anything that tasted so delicious. Still, it took a lot of strength, just sitting up and drinking.

"Tell you what exactly?" I leaned back from the cup and he put it down on the machinery beside my bed. How much could I safely tell him? Or how much did I have to tell him, hoping he never said a word about it. I did not know what to do, so I just hoped Dengar would show some initiative.

He did. "How about 'how come'? Or why? How long? Your choice."

I nodded. There was not much I could do now, being at his mercy and severely wounded. If I could not convince Dengar to join my side of the charade, I might as well shoot myself. If he blew my cover, I was out of business and on the wanted-list myself. So I decided.

"Two years," I began. "I had no choice really and Fett -"

At that moment, bombs fell. _Real_ bombs, and many of them. Somebody had to be plastering the surface of the planet. The roof of the cavern began to creak, dust and rubble rained down and then, there was only darkness again.

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I was dreaming, dreaming endless tunnels with no light at the end. I was moving through them somehow. I was not walking, or running, not floating - just moving. The tunnel seemed to go on forever. I did not feel my body, but I knew I was still in it. A creepy feeling, as if you were numbed all over, but conscious and trying to do something.

Suddenly there was a light. Not at the end of the tunnel, but in it's ceiling. A small, dim thing that could be overlooked easily. I stared at it, not sure whether I was lying on my back under it, or stood with my head laid back.

Then the pain returned. It did not feel real, a ring of fire around my chest, that was all, and the light - gone. I was shaking like a leaf in the wind, hanging from a thread, dangling, and I felt the pain approach, like a speeder on a pre-programmed course, about to smack into me.

_Wham!_

My eyes snapped open, and I saw Dengar hanging onto a wall over my head, the dim light shining over his head. Something moved in the periphery of my vision and my hand snatched it automatically. It was his blaster. I stared into his eyes for a long moment, holding the blaster. Then I heard Neelah.

Without thinking I fired at the thing over her, the red blaster bolts casting eerie red shadows on the round walls. I kept firing at the huge black thing, unable to move much, hitting the same spot all over. Suddenly, I was through the outer layer, the bolts vanishing into the black and stinking thing which reared up in pain. I wondered if it was a bit of the sarlacc that was still alive. I clutched the blaster tighter. _I die, you die, _I thought.

The shots and wriggling of the black segment caused the ceiling to fall in, rock and stones piling up against it. Neelah had taken her chance when the beast had reared up, and crawled away from underneath it. She watched in horror, as the segment began to move, backwards into a tunnel we could not see from here. The wound scraped along under the rubble, an ugly grey smear against the blackness. Then it was gone.

I could not open my hand and let go of the blaster. My muscles were cramped tight around it, but it was just another pain. I looked up at Dengar who still hung under the ceiling precariously. "Lower me. Now."

Unconsciousness came faster than the ground, though.

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Night woke me, with it's inherent cold and the sighing of the wind in the sands. And the sputtering of my breath due to sand in my nose, mouth and down my throat. I coughed violently, spitting out an ugly mix of spittle, sand, and blood. Only then did I realized that I had been covered with sand. A good idea to keep me warm, but obviously with some drawbacks. I felt sand trickle off me everywhere as I slowly sat up.

"Can't you just sleep?" Neelah's voice came from behind me. I turned and saw that she had been lying with her back to mine, another good idea to keep the cold at bay. Now I had ruined it, though. The dancer shivered in the cold.

"Sorry," I mumbled under my breath, feeling my teeth begin to chatter. "Dengar?" It was hard to speak, it felt as if my throat was coated in sand.

"On guard, what did you think?" Neelah seemed to have an angry tenor.

I drew my legs up, trying to warm up a little. "Helmet?"

There was a grunt and then she shoved it at me. I took it, looking at the t-shaped visor as if seeing it for the first time. _So you are still around, Boba Fett,_ I thought. _Good job at staying alive, you old scugger._ The helmet was dented, corroded and the paint was coming off in long strips. The inside did not look inviting, dried blood formed strange patterns in it, and the smell - it smelled as if something had died in there. Which might just be true.

With a sigh, I put it on. If the right electronics still worked, this would get much more comfortable soon. At least that's what I hoped. I gagged at the stink, but managed to keep my guts. Not that I believed much to be in them, but having gall splattered over the inside would not help either. I subvocalised the starting sequence and the system sputtered to live. Well, most of it. Some systems were down, others blinked rapidly, informing me of damage done to crucial parts of it.

"What are you doing?" The tone of the question demanded and answer. Neelah was not an average slave girl it seemed, but rather used to commanding people around.

"Getting us some shelter." The voice processor bristled with static, but I recognised my old Fett tone, still.

"You?" Neelah sounded sceptic. "You're half dead."

I snorted. "The other one looks worse, believe me." And I did feel better. My skin was still sore, but compared to the pain inside the sarlacc, this was almost a caress. And with my helmet back, _I_ was back - back to being Boba Fett. There was nothing impossible for that one.

"So, you're really Boba Fett, huh?" She sounded a little disappointed.

I shrugged and suddenly felt a little silly, sitting in the middle of the Dune Sea with little more than bandages and the Mandalorian helmet. "Why so surprised?"

"I just don't get it. Why dress up as a man? There are female hunters around, too." She cocked her head to the side.

"A female in Jabba's service," I said pointedly, "is a dead female."

"That's why you put me there, huh?" She disguised her interest well, and I guessed that whoever she was, she had some practice at fooling people.

"I didn't," I just replied.

"So you just made sure that I didn't die for somebody else? Hard to believe, bounty hunter."

"Then don't." I noted with appreciation that the use of the helmet alone made her think of me as Fett, boobs or no. I might just get out of this in one piece.

Chewing my lower lip under the helmet, I considered my options. No matter what I intended to tell Dengar, or not, this one was a completely different thing. She might end up being somebody extremely inconvenient, and I did not want my whole story known by her. Neelah's behaviour spoke of noble heritage and a bossy temperament. I would not be too sad to see her go.

And shutting her up was not that easy, either.

"You got an answer for everything, don't you?" she mocked. "Don't you think, you should at least -"

"Dengar." I interrupted her, standing up. I turned to the direction he came from, taking a tentative step forward. It was not as bad as I had fear. I could walk. It would be painful and a shaky affair at best, but I could walk.

The bounty hunter seemed amused, a grin spreading over his face as he came closer. "Already being Boba Fett again, I see," he chuckled. "You're probably even harder to kill than him."

I cracked a smile at that, though he could not see it. It was a nice thing to say, I guessed. "We need to get to shelter, and soon. I give the directions, and you make sure we get there, alright?"

He gave me a strange look, as if he was uncertain whether to follow the orders of a half naked Boba Fett girl, but in the end he nodded. "This will not come cheap, you know."

I sighed. "I know, believe me. I know. And - " hesitated a moment, "no words of doubt to Neelah, she's difficult enough as she is."

The bounty hunter snorted. "You tell me? At least, you were unconscious most of the time."

"What are you ranting about, don't you think we should _do_ something?" Neelah joined us.

"Just planning how we get you back home and then drink to your health," Dengar replied promptly. "the first step of which would be following Fett to his hideout."

I nodded and began to march. The shelter was only a few miles away, but in my state that would prove hard enough. I clenched my teeth under the helmet. No time for weakness, this was business. And urgent business, too. I called up my latest commission, which was motivation enough. There was no stopping me.

We reached the shelter just before sunrise. I let Dengar open the hidden doors after shutting down the security, I was too tired to do much but keep standing. Neelah was off little better, but her pride forbid her to show how tired she really was. Tough or not, walking the shifting sands of the Dune Sea was an exhausting pastime.

The shelter was just big enough to accommodate the three of us, but as I lay squeezed between them like a double edged sword, I did not feel uncomfortable. It had been much too long since I had anything like contact with other humans that this felt good, no matter how awkward. I was not alone. And asleep within seconds.


	8. Chapter 8

Dengar had gone to get provisions and information in Mos Eisley, which left me alone with Neelah. She had little to do and watched me while I assessed the damage to my armour, which was considerable, and replaced everything that was beyond repair. It couls have been nice, if she had not kept up the constant chain of questions. It was as if I didn't have to concentrate or something. But with every bit of armour I put back on, I felt myself further removed from her and her chatter. Building a wall between us, and nothing could stop me.

"Which one's that?" Neela asked. "What does it do?"

I sighed inwardly. This woman did not accept 'no' for answer. She didn't accept silence either.

"Rocket launcher," I replied without bothering to look up. And since I was in a bad mood, I added, "Kills a lot of creatures. At once. At a nice long distance away, with little to be found later."

"Thanks, but I could figure that much out," her tone was close to a snarl. "Don't think you have to patronize me. I was just trying to pass a little time with something like conversation. But I guess that's not within your range of skills."

Oh my. But if that was what it took to silence her, I would play the socially incapable barve for as long as she was around. It was not as if I had anything to tell her anyway. I worked on, hoping she would finally catch my drift and stop bothering me. It seemed to work for a change.

"You should drink more fluids," the droids voice cut into my concentration. And just when I had gotten rid of Neelah, too. I was sorely tempted to try out the repaired rocket launcher on it, but it would have been a waste of resources. The ammunition I had stacked here was limited enough. If I could ignore Neelah, ignoring droids should be no problem at all.

From the corner of my eye, I saw it setting down a container of water next to me, but right now, I didn't care. I had my armour almost up again, and the cooling system worked wonderfully - on me as well as on the water supply inside it_._ All those hidden gadgets, like the inbuilt water supply, were just another part of making Fett a myth. I took a small sip through the helmet and smiled.

Assembling the armour did not take as much time as I made it look. But I did not want to talk to Neelah, and she had made clear that this would be unavoidable, once I was finished with the repairs. So I took the extra time to check on everything that didn't need checking, oiled all the hinges except the necessary ones, and double checked on everything that looked like weaponry. It was a sullen job, but better than -

"When you're dealing with someone like Boba Fett," Neelah told the droids, " it's not the human parts that make the difference. It's the _other_ parts."

I was about to laugh out loud. How right she was, and still knew nothing. It was too beautiful. The other parts. Sure. Like, the only reason I was alive was because of the other parts. And I would take great care of them for that.

Just before the twin Suns began to set, Dengar finally returned, giving Neelah the chance to bother him, while I sat in the receding light, staring into the vastness around me. I had never thought to find me in this place, the planet that harboured only sand and slugs. Well, the latter was now cancelled. And anyway, I did not have the 'pleasure' of Kestrel's company. I gritted my teeth and went back on getting the comm unit together. Not yet. Not. Yet.

Neelah returned, indicating the comm. "Is that thing ready to go?"

Of course, it was, but why should I tell her? "It has to run through its logic checks before it can sync up with the database of transmission codes," I explained, not caring to mention that it was almost through and functional. Maybe some technobabble would get her off my back again. "None of the onboard memory got corrupted, if I'd had to build the comm protocols up from scratch, it would've taken a coupe of days. At least."

Well, actually, it would have taken weeks, and only if somebody had been kind enough to give me a manual. I was good enough with the maintenance, but repairs of the electronic kind were not my strength. And programming - I just sucked at it. The details had the desired effect and Neelah wandered into the night. I would have to find a way to talk with Dengar without her listening in, and soon. I punched Sequence One into the comm. When she returned, she was followed by a man who was holding a blaster at her back, as if her body shielded my sensors from telling me. I sighed.

"Well, here's a happy little gathering," the man sneered. "Old friends like us really oughta try to get together more often."

Dengar wisely retracted his hand from the blaster without touching it. "Vol Hamame," he identified the man. "I thought I spotted you back there in Mos Eisley."

"You shold've said hello. Then I wouldn't have had to come all the way to this place. I am more of a city kind of guy."

I moved the comm unit slightly, as if shifting it's weight. "Then that's where you should stay, minding your own business instead of interfering with anyone else's." I did have his attention, but he didn't seem to mind the comm so far. Good.

"Actually, this _is_ my business," Hamame claimed. "And finding that you're really alive after following Dengar on that battered swoop is well worth the slow trip."

"Seems you didn't do a very good job of keeping things secret," I said to Dengar, wondering who else might by now know. Too many people, most likely. I thought of my cargo. In too many places, too.

"Don't blame him," Hamame interrupted my thoughts. "Let's just say I have my contacts pretty well lined up in Mos Eisley. There's not much I don't hear about."

Oh, but I did blame him. I let Hamame rant on, considering the implications. If some contacts had told Hamame, that meant somebody had informed somebody else about me. And that left only Dengar, though I'd just love to know whom he told. I bit my lip. This would be precarious.

"… who would probably be a lot less than happy when they find that you're walking around again." Hamame ended his speech.

"That's their problem," I shrugged, using the gesture to hide my moving fingers. "And it might be a while before they find out, because you won't be telling them." Not if I could help it, and by the Force, I could.

"Hold it right there," Hamame ordered, suddenly suspicious. He pushed Neelah to the ground roughly and swung his rifle up. "Get your hands up! Step away from that box!"

How utterly pathetic. As if I hadn't had all the time in the galaxy to do whatever I needed by now. "This?" I dropped the unit and prodded it with my foot.

"Just get away from it," he repeated. "I don't want any surprises."

Well, then why did he mess with me? And why did he ignore Neelah completely? That was not such a wise move, considering her fiery temper. I decided to play it out. "You won't get nearly as much for a corpse as you will for living merchandise. I indicated his blaster with my head, raising my hands slowly.

"I'll take what I get," he spat back. "There's a bunch of questions I'd like some answers to. _Profitable_ answers."

"Don't be an idiot," Dengar replied. "If you want credits, there are easier ways to get them, and less dangerous."

"Oh, sure, I'll trust you." Hamame was not impressed. "And whatever you two could pay for your hides, isn't anything compared to what others are willing to pay."

He was a bit too confident. I saw Neelah perk up at the word 'two' and just knew what she was thinking. It was so easy to get overlooked if you knew how. And she was certainly getting ideas now. And before I could offer Hamame his life, as payment, Neelah had made up her mind.

"You forgot something," she said, drawing his attention. He turned to face her, and made the big mistake of turning his body, too. Just a few inches, but being a woman, I just knew what would happen next. A smirk plastered itself over my face.

Neelah braced herself against the ground and brought her foot up. It connected to Hamame's crotch with a satisfying thud, and the man crumpled into a festal position. Still, he managed to get a shot at Neelah. I grabbed my blaster, seeing Neelah rush towards us, the blaster bolt missing her by a fraction. I did not aim much further from her, hitting the ground instead of Hamame, who rolled into the nearest ditch.

But Hamame had not come alone. "Phedroi!" he called, "Get in on this! Now!" Blaster fire came from the near dunes, and his associate had free line of sight right into our shelter. I cursed under my breath.

"Now what?!" Nelaah wanted to know, showing her usual annoying self. "We're stuck here - this hole doesn't go anywhere."

"It wasn't meant to," I snapped back. "You don't get anywhere by running from creatures like these." I had tried, I had to know. No, the only way to get anywhere was to get back at them, make them eat their own business. A lethal smirk crossed my face. I was so looking forward to some revenge. "Don't worry, everything's under control."

Dengar regarded me with a strange look. As if he could see right through the helmet and didn't like what he saw the least. "If you got some kind of plan -" he began, but I cut him off.

"If there was anything you could do about it, I'd tell you. But there isn't." My, I was back in Fett-mode alright. I fired a series of shots and used the time to scan the surroundings. Not much longer.

"That's great," Neelah, began to nag again. I began to wish I hadn't dragged her into safety. "All this time I thought you were recovering, but it seems your brain is fried."

I wondered if it was okay to ram my elbow under her jaw and pretend it was an accident. "Hold your fire," I ordered instead. Kudos to Dengar, he complied immediately.

"They're coming closer," he observed with worry was in his voice.

"That's the plan," I simply said. "They have to come closer _and_ closer together."

Dengar shrugged. "I can cover you if you want to break for it."

"That won't be necessary." My sensors finally showed what I had been waiting for. I subvocalised a few commands. The scumbags were approaching cautiously, made suspicious by the lack of retuned fire. In a moment, they would be able to shoot directly into the cave. And that, would completely occupy their minds.

"Don't bother trying to talk to him," Neelah, tried to grab a blaster and fire. "He's so far gone, he can't -"

She stopped short when a hum suddenly blotted out all other sounds. Bent on getting their final shots, Hemame and Phedroi, ignored it. At least, until the ground shook with the sonic boom, and they ventured to look upwards. Reflexively, they raised their arms to ward off the shadow rushing down upon them, then they began to run. But neither of them made it out from under the _Slave I_ as she settled on the dunes in front of the cave. I nodded curtly.  
Mission accomplished.

"Oh. It's you ship," Dengar observed the obvious.

"Come on, let's get going." I went towards the ship. It was a prison of its own, but times like this, I was just grateful to see it. I grabbed what I would need again, cocking my head slightly as neither of the two moved. "There's no reason to hang around here."

Dengar nodded and got his things, Neelah, followed suit, though she seemed thoughtful. After they had left, I put everything into order and sealed the cave again. I didn't think I'd ever come back now that Jabba was gone, but that didn't mean it needed to be open for scavenging.

Neelah hovered in front of the ramp when I caught up, obviously not sure whether to board or not. I grabbed her arm and pulled. "Unless you'd rather stay, I suggest you get on board."

She hurried after me, relief in her features. What did she think? That I'd just leave her in the middle of the desert? Not that I wouldn't have loved to, but I needed to make sure that she would not talk. That would be easier if I had something to bargain with, and there was one thing she wanted.

So I'll let her have it.

I punched the door shut. It did not suit my schedule, but my commission could wait. I gritted my teeth. I would get what I wanted in the end, Boba Fett always did.


	9. Chapter 9

Somebody had been aboard. The warning flickered over my helmet display, as soon as I entered the _SlaveI_. All safety measures had been disabled, the systems hacked, and explosives had been stacked away somewhere. I read through the report on my way to the cockpit, noticing the open compartment that should have been well hidden. No time for that now, though whoever had been at it; Bossk most likely; would be so dead if he had taken it. I'd make him the most unhappy being ever to disgrace this galaxy.

"Into the holing compartment," I ordered the two, "there's explosives down there. Better find them fast."

I didn't take the time to sit down, just punched a few codes into the systems and set the ship to remote control over my helmet. I did not want Dengar at the helm, not to mention Neelah. A quick look into the no longer hidden compartment confirmed my worst fears. I grabbed a small device and clutched it tightly, as I hurried into the holding area. _Let's hope reptilians know fear. Let's just hope._

Dengar had already found the detonators and piled them in one corner. I nodded appreciation and grabbed a container. "In here," I said, turning to the cabinets. They were almost finished, when I had finished programming the transmitter and dropped it into the box."

"What's that?" Neelah wanted to know.

"An ID overlay transmitter," I explained as I closed the container with Dengar's help. "Programmed with the _SlaveI'_s identifications codes." We hoisted the container up and into the hatch. The rest was timing, but that should be easy. "Get grounded somewhere, and nobody move until I'm back."

Neelah opened her mouth but I had already turned away. Jettisoning the container and keeping it in place was easy. When Bossk exploded the detonators, I was already in the transfer tunnel, holding on tightly as I pulled the Slave around in a tight curve and dropped it right on Bossk's ship.

I counted on the fact that the Trandoshan would want to gloat. He would not mind the din that accompanied watching an explosion from such a short range. Most of his systems would scream overloaded and all kinds of alarms would hide me. The _SlaveI_ had just attached to the _Hound's Tooth_, when I was hacking my way in already. Quick, efficient, and with a helmet full of titbits, that was not a problem. I placed the device in his escape pod, turning it on grimly.

He should not have taken the data. He should not have messed with me. He should have kept his claws out of Lorna Kees' personal vendetta. I punched the hatch close again and returned to the _SlaveI_.

Dengar and Neelah had indeed stayed put. Not that it meant they stayed where they were once I was back. They followed me to the cockpit, and true to her form, Neela began to babble as soon, as I flopped down in the pilot's chair.

"You let him get away."

"You state the obvious," I told her. She did have a talent for that. Maybe she considered the rest of the galaxy to stupid to realise the obvious. In which case she would one day take a very nasty fall, if that had not been the case already.

"I don't get it either," Dengar chimed in. "He was trying to kill us."

"Me," I corrected him. "He was trying to kill me. In all likelihood, he didn't even know you were here."

"You still didn't tell us, why you let Bossk get away." Dengar was not stupid, he suspected I had plans. I was tempted to drum my fingers and just order them away, but that would not help any. And anyway, I had not been sure Bossk would make it. It had not mattered much, either he died taking the evidence with him, or he escaped, with anger searing hot enough to burn a hole into his pod.

I was not sure which outcome I would have preferred, what I wanted, what I really wanted was revenge. And I had gotten it. No matter what the retrieval of that data would cost me later, the image of Bossk, curled up in his tiny escape pod expecting to die was priceless. A nasty smirk crossed my lips.

Something tried to tell me I should feel at least a little guilty and ashamed for scaring the crap out of him like that. But it was a tiny voice from very far away. I thought back on the day, everything had changed. Then, I had run at the sight of my dead pets. Now - now, I'd whip out a blaster and shoot the bastard who _dared_ straight in the face. That's how it was.

So Bossk was a footnote for now, which reminded me … . "You know his name?" I asked Dengar, trying to get the conversation back on neutral ground.

"I recognized the ID profile that came up when we were approaching. Last I heard, the _Hound's Tooth_ is still Bossk's ship."

"Correction," I grinned tightly. "It _was_ his ship."

"You're going to blow it up?" Dengar seemed unhappy about that idea. I wondered how he came up with it.

"'Course not," I sighed. Good thing my voice was filtered and it did not show. "It's simple. Right now the whole universe believes I'm dead." Again, I added silently.

"True, Dengar agreed. "When I went into Mos Eisley, the story about you falling down the Sarlacc's throat was all over the space port."

I nodded, wondering whether that was the version with the girly scream or without. "Sometimes it is much better to have everybody believe you are dead." Dengar gave me a strange glance at that, but kept his mouth shut.

"So you let Bossk get away? After he saw that you're still alive?" Neelah's tone was beyond belief. "He'll blab the truth to everyone who'll listen!"

I chuckled, a rather scary sound on the other side of the helmet. "No, he won't." I saw him again, crouched up in the escape pod humiliated beyond anything he had known before. He would not tell anybody about that for sure.

"He won't be in a hurry to tell anybody about the little incident up here, and how he made such a scaly fool out of himself. And he will benefit from my seeming death as well, finally being the number one in the bounty hunting business." I cocked my head slightly. "He will do his best to convince everybody he meets of just how dead I am."

Suddenly Dengar broke into a chuckle. "Clever, just don't forget anything important."

I looked at him, a smile cracking at my lips, a real one, not nasty or grim. He was a good bounty hunter and in on the game. All I needed was some time to work out the details of the deal.

"What?" Neelah demanded to know.

"We're sitting, right now, aboard something that gives the whole game away," he pointed at the floor with a thumb. "The _SlaveI_ is know throughout the galaxy as Boba Fett's ship."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Dengar and I exchanged glances over her head, as well as my helmet allowed. Then I pointed my thumb at the _Hound's Tooth_ hanging in space right before the viewport. Her mouth formed a small 'oh' and that was it.

"It's not as good as this one, no ship is, but it'll suffice. Once I broke down it's ID and programmed it with new ones, nobody will even know it's Bossk's ship."

A trick, that would never work on the _SlaveI_. It was a prototype, only six of those made it into the galaxy. I would have little trouble to get the ship back once this was over. And the sooner, the better, I had other business to attend to.

"But why such a big need for secrecy? Your reputation is the biggest thing you've got going for you," Neelah observed. Did she know how true that was? That for a while, Fett's reputation was the _only_ thing that I had going for me? But I could not use it now. This, I had to do on my own. Besides, I didn't think the reputation would suffer in the long run. Not, if I managed to pull off this stunt successfully. I looked from Dengar to Neelah and back.

"There are many who wished me dead, and who tried their best to bring that about." My mind flew back to the fatal night on Coruscant. _Dead once, dead twice…_ I just wondered, if thrice would pay for all. But first, somebody else had to pay. And the price of Boba Fett was no small trifle.

"Let's see how they like it when the dead return," I whispered darkly.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been a bit of work to convince Neelah that she would be off best if she took to sleeping first. Bossk's ship was not inviting if you were not a Trandoshan, and even then, it was probably nice only, if you were Bossk himself. Of all holding cells, only one was equipped with something that resembled a bunk close enough to actually consider sleeping on it. A look at the former owner's private quarters had quickly dissuaded Neelah from trying that. It was dark, crude, and adorned with gross trophies. I did not care much, with the suit of armour between me and the galaxy, but Neelah and Dengar were obviously forced to take up quarters in the holding cell.

I sliced into the internal communication's system and placed a neat static on all channels. We would not need them, and Neelah had no business listening in, as she was bound to try. She was more trouble than she could possibly be worth.

"You know how to pilot this thing?" Dengar asked, leaning in the entrance to the cockpit.

"Nope," I retracted my arms from the crude forearm groves. "But with that kind of handling and a Trandoshan doing the flying, I figured it wouldn't be difficult."

He chuckled and came in, surveying the controls. "And, of course, you were right."

I turned to face him, cocking my head slightly. "It is more crude than I expected, but since I successfully overrode all systems and relayed the control to my helmet, we should arrive in one piece, yes."

I flopped down in the pilot's chair, took of my helmet and ruffled through my hair. "Get that door closed and down to business. I want this settled before Neelah pops up again."

He did as told sitting down on a box of unidentified purpose. "So it's finally story time, huh?"

I shrugged. "Possibly. You have to realise that the less you know, the less you can pass on. And the less you might be tempted to try the stupid thing and blackmail me again, after this business is finished." I leaned forward. "Don't think, I won't kill you if you try."

"That would depend on the benefits of this - business," he replied, measuring me. "I hope, your life and secrecy are of enough value to you to keep me quiet."

"Enough to settle down comfortably," I leaned back, " with your woman."

That had the intended impact. Dengar's head snapped up and he seemed ready to lunge at me. That woman was one lucky girl. Provided Dengar was clever enough to stay alive.

"Don't try to tell me that is not what you want: getting out of the business and settle down. Fine with me. You raise a small family with Manaroo and keep your happy mouth shut, and I will happily stay out of your lives forever. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

He regarded me closely, trying to gauge the truthfulness of my words. "How can I trust you?"

"How can _I_ trust _you_?"

"You can always hunt me down." The simple admission hit me like a wave of ice. Still the best, even after revealing to be me. Could I ever be me again?

"You and then the whole of Black Sun? I don't think so," I replied.

He nodded slowly. "Tell me about it and we have a deal."

"Tell somebody else about it, and you have a hole in the back of your head," I answered.

"I believe you. But if we are talking trust here, I need some answers. Let's start with the Black Sun, Boba Fett and you triangle. And I'd like to know what I am actually _doing_ here."

I looked into his dark eyes, wondering what they saw. Dengar was not known for human behaviour since the Empire had supposedly cut all that away. Still he was fiercely protective of Manaroo and willing to give up the business for her. Either, there was some real big hole in the Imperial programming, or it had been completely undone. And then, Boba Fett was also not know for his human side, was he?

But then, I had made my decision already, back in Dengar's shelter just before the bombing raid had interrupted us. Hadn't I? Slowly, I pulled my gloves off, looking at my hands as if I saw them for the first time. The decisions we make change everything.

"I'm Lorna Kees." I didn't look up as my name bounced through the cockpit. It did not belong here, I did not belong here, and the only thing that could change that, was the helmet that I carefully placed by my feet.

"Pleased to meet you," he replied, holding out his hand with a grin. "Name's Dengar, Arram Dengar."

He winked when I looked up in surprise. Automatically, I took the offered hand. It's been a long time since I had last shook hands with anybody, years. I smiled.

"It's not a name I use anymore, Black Sun is still after her, I think.."

"Why?"

"Oh, she messed up their great plan to wash money in the Coruscant Ledger Bank. I used to work there, and they used me. But when I found out, they decided that they'd rather have me dead than blabbing." I shrugged. "They also placed a high bounty in my head, which most likely drew Fett in."

"Good money for an easy job, I can understand the appeal. Would have come myself, if I hadn't been closing in on a head I had followed for a few weeks." He looked apologetic.

I shook my head minimally and looked at my hands. "I think, he saved my life, put himself between a huge blast and me." I paused, trying to ignore the memories coming up. "I got buried under a heap of rubble, and when I got out, he was still lying there, dead. And I had a bounty on my head and Black Sun breathing down my neck. I just wanted to live."

"And you do," Dengar patted my knee. "Good work for a clerk, I'd say. And if he was dead anyway," he shrugged, "it was the logical decision."

"Maybe," I murmured. "But nothing of that matters now. I am Boba Fett, and that's how it is."

"No need to convince me," he chuckled. "You've proven to be as nasty as the old one, no doubt. That's also what makes me wonder about the deal."

Could I blame him? "You help me, I help you, end of story." I tried to make light of the situation. "That means, right now you help me get Neelah back to wherever she belongs and shut her up about Lorna. Then I'll hand you the money you need to settle down with Manaroo."

Dengar shook his head. "That's not the unclear part. I was wondering if I was having the deal with Lorna or Fett."

"I am not really sure," I confessed. "But I know that Lorna won't let Fett get away with anything cute."

To my amazement, he burst out with laughter. "Boba Fett henpecked by a pretty bank clerk. I never thought I'd get to see that."

"It's the money," I replied. "He had to fall for that sooner or later."

"Damn straight. So I'll trust Fett's bank clerk to get me my share." He held out his hand. "On your word, Lorna Kees."

"On your word, Arram Dengar." I took his hand.

"So, what about Neelah?"

"I think the normal good hunter/bad hunter will work for her. Make sure she trusts you more than me. Work something out behind my back." I called up the files Fett had attached to Neelah's. "Show her this, pretend I don't know."

"That might get dirty," he said, "if she wants proof."

"Give her all proof she needs," I shrugged. "I'm hard to kill, you know."

He nodded. "What's the other plan?"

"Can't tell you yet," I replied, picking up the helmet. "I'm still him, remember?" I knocked on the helmet and then turned to the main screen. In it's reflection I saw Dengar leave, shaking his head. Well, at least he believed I _had_ a plan. That was good. I only knew one thing though, and that concerned Boba Fett and handing out big shares: it just didn't happen.

So I had to do something about that, and I just knew what. Dengar would be in for a hell of a surprise.


	11. Chapter 11

It was really just a matter of finding the weakest spot and then apply pressure

It was really just a matter of finding the weakest spot and then apply pressure. In Dengar's case the weakest spot was easy to see and not much harder to find. I punched a few buttons that would get me all the information I needed. After all, nothing was impossible for Boba Fett. I smiled tightly, preparing myself. If I didn't play this one right, I could just as well scrap the whole plan.

The whole plan.

At least, Dengar believed I had one. And I did, it just didn't include him or Neelah. I would have to get back at Bossk, and soon, but this had to be sorted first. Frigging stupid Bossk. Should have killed that one when I had a chance. But back then, I had been a bit too much Lorna for such drastic measures. Well, it wouldn't happen again. Probably.

The computer signalled that it had finished. Glancing over the data, I nodded to myself. All was as expected, very good. I punched the numbers into the comm and a few moments later a delicate woman appeared on the screen. He black hair hang over her shoulders and her skin had a faintly bluish gleam. So she was that Arzuran from Jabba's palace. I have seen her before.

"Manaroo?"

"Who wants to know?" she demanded.

I lifted the helmet into the picture and rapped on it with my knuckles. "The current edition of Boba Fett."

Her face hardened immediately. "Where is Dengar?"

"Oh, he's fine and doing his job right now. I have no complaints." Smiling, I placed the helmet on my lap and folded my hands on it. "And that's how it's gonna stay, unless he'd do something really, really stupid. "

"Then why are you calling me?" I could not hold her suspicion against her.

"I need your help."

Manaroo laughed. Then she became serious from one moment to the next. "If you hurt Dengar, I will find way to pay you back." She was dead serious.

I shook my head. "Listen, I promised Dengar enough out of our cooperation to settle down nicely with you." It was obvious that she didn't believe me, but then, Fett was not know for his altruism. "I see, you realise where the problem lies. Fett is not know to do things like that, and honestly, I don't want to raise any suspicion by starting now. No, don't! Let me speak first. There is a thing, Fett is know for, though, and that will be the solution of our little problem."

I smiled, as I called up some tables for her to see. "So this is my proposition."

She listened, contemplated the odds, listened some more, and finally, she laughed. "So you want to have your cake and eat it. But, truth be told, that might just work."

"And it would be such a convenient way to turn a grumpy bounty hunter, who feels betrayed by everybody into a happy husband."

She got the hint. "I won't tell him."

"Good." I nodded curtly. "He's so scared for you, he won't call you either."

Manaroo shook her head smiling. She was obviously thinking about Dengar fondly, but there was no time for that yet.

"Do you have all you need?"

She thought for a moment. "With those odds, what I can get, will do," she mused.

"I'll send somebody with five thousand," I told her. It was good to watch her eyes grow to the size of saucers in amazement. "Hey, that won't be a fraction of what I would have paid Dengar. And I won't have to scrounge together the rest now."

"A win/win situation, huh?"

"I hope so. I'll send you a file with places to go. You should encounter no problems."

There was silence as she waited for the file to arrive and saved it. Finally she looked at me again. "You are aware that you could get off easier, cheaper."

Of course, I knew. It would be easiest to just dump Dengar at the end, promises or no. It was actually rather neat, because it made sure that people who worked with me once, were not keen of a repeat. That made my disguise even easier to keep.

"How can I trust you?" Manaroo broke into my thoughts. Not that one again. Would this never end? Probably not, after all, I was Boba Fett and rather notorious. To hell with it.

"You can't. Nobody can, even Dengar, who has enough about me to have me by my non-existent balls, can't. There will _always_ be a reason why I'd be better of with both of you dead." I tried to calm down. "Call it professional risk, or folly, whatever you like, I don't care. Just remember that I need not have called you in, if I just wanted to dump him."

I broke the connection before she could answer. I had enough. Trust, trust, trust. Same old story ever again. I was so tired of it. Still, I prepared the money for transfer as soon as we left hyperspace. Then I cleared on of the ships channels and listened in on Neelah and Dengar.

The latter was doing a good job at telling the story of the late Boba Fett and his destruction of the Bounty Hunter's Guild. I had pieced that together already, but decided to listen, just in case Dengar brought up something new. After all, he'd been there, and I hadn't. His description of the assemble Kud'ar Mub'at was pretty gross, it was a shame I couldn't see Neelah's reaction to that.

Idly, I called up the files on Mub'at. Loads of stuff there. Fett had had a lot of dealings with that one, right up to the day he killed him. _Business as usual. _Fett still had a score to settle with one of Mub'at's underlings, a subnode called Balancesheet. Maybe it was time to do that. At least, the long way there would give Dengar some time to work on Neelah. I rubbed my temples. Stupid morality keeping me from just jettisoning that one. But space was big and dangerous, accidents kept happening. I would think of something.


End file.
